


Morning Suns & Coffee Runs

by laugh_a_latte



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also I'm American so sorry if the spelling is American style, Angst, Candle Shop AU, Daily Routines, Fluff, M/M, Post-War, Singing, Tattoos, domestic stuff, flangst, mental illness mentions, self-harm mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laugh_a_latte/pseuds/laugh_a_latte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Draco works in a muggle candle shop after the war, Harry is confused and needs something to do, and thus something wonderful unfolds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for checking out my work. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters and whatnot belong to J.K Rowling, and you get the drift.

_Morning Sun_. That’s all Harry wanted: two jars of Morning Sun. However, he got a lot more than that.

Since Hermione was just promoted to Head of Magical Law Enforcement at the ministry, Harry thought it nice to grab her some jars of her favorite candle scent because she had just mentioned how she ran out. One rather hot July day, Harry stopped by Hermione’s favorite muggle candle shop to pick them up.

The door opened with a soft jangle, a millions different scents hit Harry at once. The light was coming in through the windows in a way that made every jar sparkle. The old, pale wooden floors matched well with the sunlight and all of the different candle colors that decorated the walls and displays. Everything in here was warm and cozy, and just so perfect that it made Harry smile.

He heard a cheery “Hello!” from behind a display near the back of the tiny shop and he made his way to some of the right hand shelves where Morning Sun was kept. Something about the voice made Harry’s mind begin to race, but he squashed the feeling down and hunted out the fragrance. He selected the two light orange candles and brought his haul to the back of the store where the cash registers were, but something made him stop.

Suddenly everything was less perfect.

No wonder the voice made his mind race.

He could recognize that blond head that was currently stocking shelves anywhere.

All he could think of now was _What is_ Malfoy _doing stocking muggle candles in a muggle shop in muggle London_?  
He must have detected Harry’s lingering stare, because then he turned to face Harry.

“Did you find everything you-” he and Harry made eye contact. Malfoy went quiet, eyes wide and slightly shocked. “Potter.”

“Malfoy.” There was a beat of awkward pause. “What are you doing here?”

“Er, working? Obviously?” He replied, gesturing around him and at his maroon apron branded with the store logo.

“Well, yeah, I can _see_ that, but here?”

“I mean it pays the bills and gives me something to do.”

Harry stood there gaping and probably looking like an idiot. This was way too strange and way too much to take in. Malfoy, the muggle-hating, close-minded, prat, Draco fucking Malfoy was working in a muggle candle shop like he’d never even seen the wizarding world, let alone been a crazy blood purist and a Death Eater.

_What was going on?_

“So are you ready to check out or are you just going to stand there enjoying the view?” At least his sarcasm was still in check.

“N-no, I’m all set here.” He placed the candles on the counter and began fishing around for his muggle money, while Malfoy began to ring him up and wrap and bag his candles like he wasn’t the bloody Malfoy heir and probably had all the riches he could ever need.

Harry couldn’t help his eyes from wandering to his left forearm, where the Dark Mark was, or still is maybe. Harry couldn’t tell because Malfoy was wearing long sleeves. Which was strange, as the day outside was blazing hot. _Ashamed of it, Malfoy_?

He was pulled out of his thought’s by Malfoy clearing his throat. He averted his gaze from Malfoy’s arm and saw Malfoy was staring at him looking very unpleased.

“I said your total today is twenty-two fifty-five.” Harry handed over twenty-five pounds, grabbed his bag, and left without his change. He let the door slam behind him, feeling uneasy. This is way too strange.

~~~~~

_Why is it always fucking Potter_? Draco thought annoyed as he watched Potter disappear out the door, shoving his stupid extra change under the register to not overfill it. Here he was, proud assistant manager of his favorite place on earth, finally making enough to somewhat scrape by on a day’s worth of food and a tiny flat and even some decent coffee, perfectly happy and Potter-less. He shouted his usual greeting when he heard the door open, not at all expecting Potter of all people to come messing his day up.

He sighed and went back to his shelf stocking. After finally getting rid of those God-awful cotton candy scented candles (but only after putting them on clearance for 4 pounds each) he had an entire back room full of mostly good candles that should actually sell for regular price to stock. Normally going about his usual stock-and-make-sure-everything-looks-pretty-and-greet-customers-when-they-show-up-routine would bring his mind back to ease, but Potter always had that special talent of getting under his skin with his mere presence. He couldn’t calm down.

It must have shown on his face because one of his sales associates, Natalie, rounded up on him.

“You look tense, try sniffing some Lavender Lemon or something,” she smiled up at him, brown eyes beaming. Her peppy presence helped more than any lavender could. “You okay, man?”

“Oh, hey Nat, just one of those difficult, annoy-you-in-every-way-possible, kind of customers.”

“Aw, that’s a shame. I thought he was pretty cute,” and she really _did_ look disappointed, Draco thought. He heaved a sigh. _It’s not like Potter can really be into candles. I probably won’t even see him again._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until I finished chapter 3 to post this, but I'll be gone for the next three days, so I thought I'd post it now! Chapter 3 should be up in 3 or so days after my little vacation. I edited this is somewhat of a rush so I apologize if the formatting is off! Thank you for reading! (:
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters, except for a few muggles, and what not aren't mine and belong to J.K> Rowling. You know, the usual.

Harry swung open the door to his new flat, barely furnished. Grimmauld Place was still too depressing to even think of, so he opted for something fresh and new after living in the depressing atmosphere for a year, then Hermione and Ron’s flat for four more. He was sick of feeling like a burden on them, so he dug into his vault for some gold which he exchanged for muggle money, and bought himself a cozy flat between muggle and wizarding London.

The main area was a living room-slash-kitchen. It was pretty spacious, with the kitchen to the left, mostly out of view behind a wall with something of an arch connecting it to the living area to the right, which held enough space for a couch, some chairs, a coffee table and a television. Within the living area against the back wall was the door into the only bedroom, which held a nice bathroom and a closet. It was small and cozy, but Harry was happy, even if the only furniture he had yet attained was a mattress and boxspring, two bean bags, and a radio, which he rarely touched because it reminded him too much of a certain lonely and prolonged camping trip. The kitchen simply held a few pots and pans, paper plates, cutlery, a cheap coffee maker, and a tea kettle.

Harry grabbed a book he tossed on the floor, settled into one of the beanbags, and began to read. Well, he more of mimicked reading as he retained no information after skimming the page. He mind was far too preoccupied with thoughts of Malfoy.

He hadn’t seen Malfoy since he spoke for him at his trial. All he knew was that he did not go to Azkaban, but he had no clue what became of him after that, until now. But why a muggle candle shop? Malfoy had all the riches and inheritance in the world. He said something about bills, too. What bills? Didn’t he have Malfoy Manor?

Wait, _bills_? Did that mean Malfoy had a flat? Why not the Manor? And he had inheritance, so why was he working? With _muggles_?

Harry put the book down and blew out a breath as he looked up towards the ceiling. He had so many questions and no answers. But no, I can’t go get answers. _I will_ not _get obsessed with Malfoy again_. His life was none of his business. _Who cares what Malfoy does anyway_?

~~~~~

Well, apparently Harry did care. A week later, his mind was still uneasy, and he left the solitude of his flat for some fresh air. He somehow ended up not going to his favorite refuge, a quaint little book shop, as he planned. He ended up walking past the candle shop. That was weird. Harry never went this way.

He stood back and peered up at the sign. _Tea Lights N’ Tumblers_ , it read, with a taper candle instead of an “i” and little wax drips melting from the cursive letters. His gaze shifted to the front windows, which held fancy and adorable displays of summer scents. Harry decided he would turn around and return towards the book shop as he pushed open the door. Again, all the wonderful fragrances hit him at once, overpowering yet wonderful. A tiny dark girl, probably eighteen or nineteen, stuck her head around a candle display she was organizing.

“Hey, welcome to Tea Lights!” She welcomed Harry with a smile. “Anything I can help you find?” _Yeah, a blond git who I can’t seem to get out of my head, by any chance?_

“No, thanks, just looking around,” he replied airily, as his gaze shifted to the back of the shop, but just found candles. Harry retreated to the Morning Sun shelf, and pretended to look around. There was a cheery looking elderly couple looking at flowery candles to Harry’s left, and a very eclectic looking girl who strikingly reminded Harry of Luna, browsing near where Malfoy was last time.

“Hey Nat, could you shelf these Salt Water Taffy candles in the backroom somewhere near the front for me?” Harry’s head snapped around towards the source of the voice. There he was, Malfoy, leaning against the door of the backroom that read _Employees Only_ , with a slight smile, addressing the girl who greeted Harry.

“Sure thing, boss-man,” the girl, Nat, replied in a slightly sarcastic tone, making her way to the back room. Harry ducked behind a display of sweetly scented candles. Boss-man? He suddenly felt embarrassed about coming back. To see _Malfoy. You don’t care about him, remember?_

“Sweet Christ, these smell terrible,” Harry heard Nat exclaim. He peeked around the Vanilla Frosting candles.

“Merlin, Natty, not so _loud,_ ” Malfoy hissed, exasperated, “why do you think I want them near the front? Maybe people will see them and buy them and we can be rid of them.”

“Who the hell is Merlin?” Nat replied, giggling like a schoolgirl. “You can be really weird sometimes, you know.”

“Maybe, but you still love me,” Malfoy said, flashing her his award-winning smirk.

“Whatever, boss-man,” Nat said, pushing a cart full of purply pink candles towards the display Harry was behind. _Merlin, I’m being ridiculous!_ Harry straightened up as Nat reached him and began to stock the jars.

“Still finding everything alright?” Nat asked him, her tone suddenly cheery and slightly fake.

“Er-yes. Thanks,” Harry said, eyes on Malfoy, who was ringing up the Luna-looking girl. He was so relaxed looking, smiling, eyes brighter than Harry could remember them ever being, as he nodded along to whatever the Luna-girl was telling him. He looked almost _happy._

Now that Harry was paying a bit more attention after the shock of their first meeting, he noticed that Malfoy no longer kept his hair slicked back, and instead kept it free and wore it longer to slightly below his ears. However, Harry also now noticed that Malfoy was looking rather thin. In fact, other than his newly bright eyes and relaxed appearance, Malfoy looked physically more unhealthy than he had in sixth year. A wave of confusion mixed with something resembling pity swept over Harry before he was grounded back to reality by the sound of clinking candle jars.

Nat was humming as she shelfed the jars. Harry grabbed one of the taffy candles, and sniffed it. It was very sweet, with a hint of salt. He could detect grape and strawberry and a little vanilla. It wasn’t _that_ bad. Harry thought Ginny might like it. He hadn’t seen her that much since their breakup two months before. They still occasionally chatted, and saw each other when out with groups of friends. They were still friends, but it wasn’t like before.

Harry considered the candle for a moment before deciding he would buy it for her. It might cheer her up a bit, and there wasn’t anything wrong with a friend buying another friend a present.

Harry smiled absently as he started towards the register before remembering Malfoy was there, but by then it was too late.

“Potter. Back again,” Malfoy addressed him, eyes dampening as the Luna-girl left the shop. He didn’t look so relaxed nor happy anymore, and his eyes now matched his gaunt appearance.

“What, a customer can’t return?” Harry replied, lacking the old amount of venom. He dumped the candle on the counter.

“I just didn’t expect you’d be returning so soon,” Malfoy said, voice flat, and began ringing Harry up.

“Well, I-er, thought Ginny might like this,” Harry voiced, gesturing at the candle.

“A nice little gift for your girlfriend, then?” Malfoy’s smirk returned, though not as fully.

“Well, actually we broke it off,” Harry replied, meeting Malfoy’s gaze. “We’re still friends though. Actually, more like siblings at this point.”

“That’s interesting,” Malfoy hummed, “eleven twenty-seven, Potter.” Harry dug out the money, and handed it over.

“Anything _interesting_ going on in your life?” Harry questioned, as he grabbed his bag, Malfoy’s unhealthy appearance coming to mind.

“What, do you really care about my life or something?”

“Not really-no,” Harry tried to state, but it came out sounding more like a question.

“I’m just screwing with you, Potter,” Malfoy’s smirk was back, “but, really, no. I mean I mainly just go to work, go home, sometimes see old friends. Act like a normal human being.”

“Oh.”

“What’d you expect?”

“Nothing, I guess it just struck me as odd seeing you in a muggle shop,” Harry voiced, expression bemused.

“Yes, I suppose, that would seem odd to you,” Malfoy’s expression remained neutral, however the smirk was still traced on his face, “not still stuck in old school days are you, Potter?”

“Well, excuse me, Malfoy, I just don’t exactly recall you being the most open-minded person in the world.”

“Merlin, Potter, people can _change_ ,” Malfoy’s expression began to harden, “I thought you already believed that, but I guess I was wrong.”

“What are you saying?” Harry retorted, voice rising, now on the defensive.

“I mean I thought you wouldn’t hold anything against me after the trials,” Malfoy’s voice was rising too, but Harry faltered noticing that his eyes now held something new. Something that looked an awful lot like hurt. At that moment a new voice joined in on the conversation.

“Hey boss, quiet down, you’re scaring away the paying customers!” Nat was suddenly present by Malfoy’s side. Her peppy expression suddenly became something of concern. “Hey, everything okay here?”

Malfoy sighed. “Yeah, it’s _fine._ ” Nat’s eyes slipped to Harry and he noted something like recognition dawned on her face.

“Oh, you’re that one rude customer from last time!” Nat exclaimed. Malfoy’s expression was suddenly somewhat twisted and shocked, previous conversation forgotten, and he shot her a piercing glare. “ _Natty!_ ”

“What? Oh my God, sorry!” Nat covered her mouth, looking very bashful. “Jesus, Draco, you’re right, I really don’t have a filter!” Harry was so confused, but he suddenly burst out laughing. This Nat-slash-Natty character was charming in an odd sort of way, even if she did just call him rude. Malfoy looked at him, just as confused as Harry was before, but then his face softened, and he let out a genuine smile, not just a smirk.

“Merlin, Malfoy, what’s this about me being rude?” Harry looked back at Draco, smiling as well.

“Why is everyone suddenly saying Merlin now? Am I missing some new thing? Am I getting _old?_ ” Nat cried, looking genuinely confused.

“Yes, Natty, nineteen and fresh out of school and you’re old,” Malfoy teased, rolling his eyes.

“Oh stop!” Natty giggled. “At least I’m not as old as you, boss-man.”

“I’m twenty-two!” Malfoy replied, feigning offense. At that moment, the elderly couple approached the counter. Malfoy swept some loose hair out of his eyes, and flashed a smile, eyes once again bright. “All set then?” He addressed the couple. Harry took that as his cue to make his exit.

“See you, Malfoy, Natty,” Harry made a vague sort of wave, and Malfoy glanced at him for a moment. Natty followed him to the door, and waved a goodbye as he left. Harry was thankful that she interrupted his and Malfoy’s conversation before it escalated because, really, Harry thought he was finally finished with being a git (and yes, he admitted, he was a git) to Malfoy, and started to think that maybe he should take this new opportunity to pursue something new.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! I was able to get some writing in during my little vacation. I try to stay a chapter or two ahead of what's posted, but I decided to post this one without having the next written, so it might be a little while until the next chapter is up. I'll try to have it up tomorrow evening, if I feel inspired to write tomorrow, but it might be a little bit since I am busy with work and some other things.
> 
> Anyway, here you go!
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters, except for a few muggles, and what not aren't mine and belong to J.K> Rowling. You know, the usual.

Draco was utterly confused.

He was currently sitting cross-legged on his kitchen counter, steaming mug of coffee wrapped in his hands, head leaning back against the cupboards, staring at the ceiling. He does have a couch in his miniscule flat, directly in front of his position, perched in his kitchenette. And beyond the couch a TV, and beyond the wall behind the TV was a very cozy (though it was more cramped than cozy, but Draco much preferred the former term) bedroom and bathroom. He enjoyed this little flat, even if it did just barely accommodate him, because this flat was _his_. 

He worked so hard to get where he was now, after the devastation he went through when the entirety of his inheritance and the manor had been confiscated by the ministry immediately following his trial. The fact that he could now support himself and live somewhat comfortably, and the fact that he had done it all without help, gave him a sense of pride and peace that he had previously laughed at in a life that seemed far behind him.

And Draco thought of that as he stared at the ceiling of his cozy flat. He thought of how Potter had it so easy after the war. Draco had at first been deeply bitter about his situation, and envious of Potter’s. However, reality quickly set in and he had to push that weight to the side to preserve his energy so he could simply survive. And he had not thought of Potter since. Not until now.

And in that two minute conversation it was like nothing had changed. They were suddenly back in Hogwarts, acting like schoolboys. But things _had_ changed. Everything was different.

And for a moment, Draco thought of how ridiculous he probably looked working as a muggle to Potter, who had actually _known_ Draco’s past. _But, hey, what should that even matter?_ Potter probably hadn't given Draco a second thought after speaking at his trial (presumably to boost his own image: Saint Potter sympathising with a poor, broken Death Eater. What a golden head line). Potter hadn’t the slightest clue of what Draco had gone through to get to where he was now. And Draco knew his life wasn't anything spectacular. It wasn’t what he dreamed of when he was little, and his father would be beyond disappointed if he saw him now, but Draco was content with this. It was all _his_. He had made it himself.

And through working so hard for so long to get here, Draco had changed. He left behind everything about his previous life and let loose, stopped caring about other people's thoughts (and their blood heritage, too, Draco realized) because those things just didn’t matter. Draco finally grown up. And Potter had not seen that or thought it, which became obvious to Draco during their short conversation.

Draco blew his hair out of his face (which he was always doing. His hair was rather untameable, but at least it was _neat_ , unlike Potter’s), and sipped his coffee, staring at his reflection in the dark television screen.

Draco knew he was still thin and unhealthily so. His lounge pants were still too baggy, but not as much anymore. The tank top he was sporting fit well, Draco remarked, as it had been too big a couple of months ago. Draco smiled a bit at the thought that he was eating more, eating _enough_ now. He cocked his head to one side and inspected the scar that runs well beyond his shirt collar to just above his jawline from a certain spell in sixth year. It’s been a long time since he gave up attempting to cover it with glamours. Besides, he had grown somewhat of a liking to how it looked over the years.

He still had troubles sleeping, but he thought of how he had gotten so much better, which was reinforced by the fading dark circles under his eyes. He vaguely recalls one particular month in which he slept only a total of maybe 4 full nights.

_But now that's over_ , Draco thought. It had been over since the day Harper took him in and offered him a temporary job at her candle store. At the time, he would never have dreamed that he would grow to absolutely adore the little shop and eventually work his way up to assistant manager, with Harper still the boss. Since he started there, the full, sweet scent of the shop worked it’s way onto all of Draco’s clothes, and he can’t help smelling it without thinking _home_.

Potter knew nothing of what he'd been through, and he knew nothing of how happy and proud Draco was now that he’s coming out of it. In fact, Potter probably thinks this whole situation up front is utterly absurd. And Draco can’t help but be a little hurt about what Potter probably sees him as. Draco let out a breath, releasing all the bitterness and tension he had worked up about Potter throughout the course of the day. Perhaps Potter would come around if he kept popping into the shop.

Draco hopped off the counter landing lightly on his bare feet, and drained the dregs in his mug. He washed the dishes quickly, humming to himself, bringing his mind away from Potter.

Leave it to _Potter_ to have him reevaluating his whole life.

~~~~~

The next morning, Draco woke at 6:32, giving him just under 6 hours of sleep the previous night.

Draco turned on his muggle radio (he had grown quite fond of the music) full blast, casting a few silencing charms around the flat to not disturb the neighbors. He hummed and sang along to himself as he dressed (dark jeans, dress shoes, and a black tank top. He shoved a grey jumper into his bag), made his coffee (but skipped breakfast), cleaned up, then left to open the store, silencing the radio with a wave of his wand.

The shop was only two blocks away, right in the middle of a rather busy mall area. Draco unlocked the door and flung it open, taking in his favorite scent and the sweet relief of air conditioning because it’s been unusually hot this year. He locked the door behind him, and went about preparing the shop for the day. They don’t open until nine, and by the time the shop is all set it’s only seven-thirty, so Draco retreated into the backroom, and busied himself making more coffee (though this time mixing decaf with regular grounds), enjoying the music playing over the shop’s radio. With his mug of coffee and a book to read, Draco settled in Harper’s chair, and got himself prepared for the day.

His thoughts were far away from Potter.

~~~~~

Later that day, Harry actually did go to that bookstore he had planned to visit the previous day. He made a few purchases and chatted with the shopkeeper: a kind older woman who seemed to be eternally curious in every one of her customer's lives. He politely answered all her questions with _fine’s_ and _how about yourself’s_ and _yes’s_ and _no’s_ and finally a _have a nice day_.

He ducked out of the bookstore, and passed his favorite coffee shop on the way back to his flat. He lingered in front for a moment, then remembered how he thought of pursuing something new, and an idea came to mind. He continued down the block, then instead of going straight ahead to his flat, he took a right, then another right, and then one more left, and in fifteen minutes he found himself standing in front of Tealights & Tumblers.

Harry peered into the store and found it empty of customers. Malfoy was moving around behind the counter wearing a casual grey jumper, hair swept neatly across his forehead and tucked behind his ears. Harry took a step closer and noticed that Malfoy wasn’t just moving around, he was also _singing_. His body was moving to the beat of some song and he was rather enthusiastically drumming on the counter with a pen as he mulled over a fair amount of paperwork. Harry paused at this odd as hell sight, thinking for a moment that he might be hallucinating. No way in hell would the prissy and ponce Draco Malfoy ever sing and dance like that. In public.

Harry shook himself out of his trance, and pushed open the front door.

“ _-This is a happy end, come and give me your hand. I'll take you far away-_ " 

Harry heard Malfoy sing, and was dumbstruck.

" _-I'm a new soul, I came to this strange world hoping I could learn a bit 'bout how to give and take-_ "

_That can_ not _be Malfoy_. But who else could it be?

" _-but since I came here, felt the joy and the fear, finding myself making every possible mistake,_ ”

_Merlin, that's bloody beautiful._ Harry could hardly believe Malfoy had such a voice. _How long has he been hiding that?_

“Hello,” Malfoy caught himself, flushing rapidly, when he realized he wasn’t alone anymore, “anything you’re looking for?” The song he was singing along to continued playing on the sound system.

He came around the counter and saw who his customer was. “Oh, Potter.” His flush deepened slightly.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, still wide-eyed and nearly rendered speechless.

Malfoy turned his back on Harry and made his way back behind the counter. “Yeah, who else would it be?”

Harry didn’t have a response to that, but then remembered why he had come here in the first place. Taking a moment to recompose himself, he picked up another jar of the Salt Water Taffy candle. In the end he had taken a liking to it, and lit the one he had bought, so he figured he should grab another for Ginny.

He brought it up to the counter, where Malfoy was hunched over a stack of papers, scribbling down numbers and humming the song to himself. Harry clunked the candle on the counter, and Malfoy looked up, and went to ring him up.

“This again?” Malfoy inquired, peering up at Harry and raising one eyebrow.

“It’s not that bad,” Harry said defensively. “I lit the one I bought yesterday, so I came back for another for Gin.” Malfoy hummed at that.

The awkward silence stretched for a beat too long. Harry scrambled for something to fill it. “Where’s Natty?”

“She’s off today,” Malfoy answered, “though another sales associate, Alexa, is coming in later today, and Harper—she’s the manager—is coming in, too,” Malfoy paused as he wrapped Harry’s candle. “I was just opening today.”

“When’s your manager coming in?”

Malfoy raised another questioning eyebrow. “Why?”

Harry realized how odd it must’ve sounded for him to ask that. “I was thinking maybe you and I could go get some coffee or something,” Malfoy stared at him, eyebrow still quirked. “You know, catch up a bit?”

Malfoy kept staring at him, and Harry could see surprise in his eyes. “You . . ." Malfoy began, "You want to 'catch up a bit.' With me."

“Sure?” Harry was confused now. “Why not? I mean unless you don’t want to,” Harry thought he was being stupid now. Why did he think this was a good idea? “I get it does sound ridiculous,” Harry could feel his face heat up.

Harry hadn’t really seen anyone from school besides Ron and Hermione, and sometimes Luna and Neville, and now even more rarely, Ginny. He supposed seeing Malfoy so unexpectedly and in a position like this, so different yet still the same Malfoy, made him curious. He hadn’t been working since he quit auror training, and now he only left the flat to run errands, and sometimes pick up a new book or sit down for some coffee. In fact, he realized he hadn’t been to the Burrow at all since the beginning of June. He didn’t even realize that he’d stopped going. His life was recently uneventful, and Malfoy had opened this opportunity to perhaps pursue something new.

“No, not really,” Malfoy stammered, defenses dropping, “I mean, yeah. That sounds good.” Malfoy brushed his hair out of his face, and quirked an awkward half smile. “I get off at three. That’s when Harper comes in.”

“Okay. Great,” Harry smiled back. _Merlin, this is so awkward._ “Do you know of Café Red? I figured we could meet there.”

Draco nodded, smile still quirked. “Yeah, sounds nice. And your total is eleven twenty-seven, by the way.”

“Hm? Oh, right,” Harry handed it over, and reached for his bag. “I’ll see you just after three, then.”

“See you.”

Harry hurried out the door, and let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Why was he nervous? Yeah, that was awkward, but it went well. Harry smiled as he made his way back to his flat to drop off his candle and books, before heading out to Café Red a little early.

Maybe he and Malfoy could get to know each other a little bit. Harry knew he needed it, considering the only two people he sees regularly are Ron and Hermione, and even then he feels like a third wheel.

Harry pushed open the door to the coffee shop and took in the atmosphere. The buzz of happy customers filled his ears. The floors were old and worn down, and there was a large, dusty throw rug in the middle of the floor.. The ceiling was exposed and high, with the rafters and visible. The counter ran along the back wall, and along half of the far right wall, too. Behind it, five baristas were busy steaming milk, pouring espresso, making tea, and working in a frenzy. There were tables, both small and large and all very mismatched, scattered around the eclectic café. Most of them were occupied. One corner held large cozy chairs and a couch huddled around a fireplace, which was currently closed up for the summer. Old records were hanging along the walls between many different paintings of all sizes for sale, all done by local artists. The place has a warm glow and bright, natural lighting, which spilled in from the large front windows. Harry couldn't help but always love this place, from the moment he first stepped in.

He found an open table by the large front windows and took a seat, ordering cup of tea to start himself off with, and began a new book he purchased earlier. He still had half an hour or so until Malfoy should arrive.

The same song Malofy was singing earlier came on the radio, filling the café with it’s sound. Harry hummed along.

~~~~~

Draco smiled at Harper when she entered the shop. “Afternoon.”

“Draco! I haven’t seen you in an _age!_ ” Harper squealed. When Draco first met her, her extremely peppy attitude was almost too much for him, but he’s grown used to it, and he even found himself matching it when he’s around her.

“I know! It has been a while, huh?” Draco remarked as he clocked out.

“Stand straight for me,” Harper squared him up, tight blond curls bouncing, hands on shoulders, and backed up, inspecting him. Draco found it a little ridiculous. She was so tiny and only just reached his chest in height. “You’re looking much better!” She clapped her hands and smiled up at him.

“Eh,” Draco made some vague hand gestures, but still grinned at her. It was true that he had been doing better, but he still did look pretty gaunt, and she knew it. Harper simply smacked him on the arm, and disappeared into the back room to get ready. Once she has returned and clocked in, Draco retreated to the back to gather up his things and his nerve as he remembered his plans.

He had not been expecting Potter to pop in again so soon, let alone ask him to coffee. And Draco can’t believe he really said yes. He was just so surprised Potter would ask him such a thing, recalling their near-argument. He had said he wanted to catch up. What in the fuck did that mean? He didn’t think Potter cared about him at all, let alone wanted to ‘catch up.’ Did Potter really still think Draco was the same person he was in school? He wasn’t sure anymore, but he sure as hell was going to show Potter he wasn’t.

Draco took off his apron and pulled off his jumper, so as not to cook himself in the unusually sweltering heat, and stuck on a pair of aviator sunglasses. He changed his dress shoes to black trainers, shoved all of his things into his emerald green rucksack, slung it over one shoulder, shouted a goodbye to Harper, and was on his way.

~~~~~

A quarter past three, Harry heard the jangle of the door to the café opening, looked up, and for the second time that day, was stunned by Draco Malfoy.

Harry was completely wrong about Malfoy being too ashamed of the Dark Mark to show it. Malfoy was wearing a very nice fitting black tank top, his Dark mark clearly exposed, but that’s not what stunned Harry.

[Dancing around the Dark Mark and running all the way up to Malfoy’s collar bone were flowers,](http://queer-coffee.tumblr.com/image/147358017550) beautifully inked flowers with dark green vines weaving through them. Some were striking red roses and others were white and yellow narcissus flowers. There were daisies and hyacinths and other pretty blue and purple and pink and green flowers Harry hadn’t seen before. Harry noticed lilies amongst the flora and felt a warm glow. The ink was incredibly bright and cheery against Malfoy’s pale skin, and somehow the flowers worked wonderfully with the ugly Dark Mark.

What the tattoo didn’t cover was something that Harry knew was there, but it had been mostly covered by Malfoy’s work clothes. The tank top allowed Harry a very clear view of the horrible Sectumsempra scar that ran way up to Malfoy’s face. Harry swallowed down a pang of guilt at the sight of it.

Malfoy blew hair out of his face, and pushed his aviators onto his head, which prevented any more hair from falling into his face. Squinting against the sudden brightness, Malfoy scanned the café before noticing Harry by the window, and he started over.

“Hello,” Malfoy addressed Harry, much too polite for the casual atmosphere.

“Hey Malfoy,” Harry countered him and he took a seat. Harry marked his place in his book, setting it aside.

“It’s been a while since I came in here,” Malfoy said, still much too polite, which irked Harry somehow.

“Hey, loosen up a bit, will you?” Harry smiled slightly. “You’re too tense.”

“Forgive me,” Draco retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes, hands up in mock surrender, flashing his ink. Something stirred deep in the pit of Harry’s stomach.

A young waitress appeared at their table to take Malfoy’s order. He ordered black coffee and a croissant, and Harry asked for another tea.

Harry stared at the tattoo on Malfoy’s arm, now taking in the details of the shading and careful detail of each flower. His eyes wandered over to the Dark Mark, where his eyes stopped and breath caught. The Mark was slightly faded, but on top of it were fading scars, each horizontal and thrown messily onto the Mark. Most of them were older and faint, but others were more recent, and looked only a couple months healed. 

Malfoy followed Harry’s gaze. “Oh, yeah,” tone casual, he stretched his arm, forearm up, on the table, “I sometimes forget about the tattoo. It’s been a while since I got it.” He seemed unfazed by Harry’s staring, and Harry averted his gaze away from the scars and back to Malfoy’s face.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry could now breathe again. Malfoy folded his arm back against the other, leaning on the table.

“Thank you,” now his smile was genuine, “I got it to help remember some happy things, like my mother, and to help, well . . .” Malfoy looked down, and Harry knew he was eyeing the Dark Mark. “Yeah.”

The waitress returned with their orders, then hustled off again. Malfoy took a tentative sip of coffee, and made a pleased sort of hum. Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” Malfoy inquired, and Harry laughed a little.

“Nothing,” Harry said, sipping his tea to hide his smile.

“Merlin, I forgot how good their coffee is!” Malfoy exclaimed, taking another, longer sip, his eyes brightening as they did the second time Harry saw him.

“Almost as good as the weather this month,” Harry added in, struggling for more topics of conversation.

“Stop right there,” Malfoy set down his mug. “I don’t care how awkward we both know this is, we are not discussing the bloody _weather_ ,” and the seriousness in his tone and the determination set in his face caused Harry to let out a bark of laughter, which Malfoy copied.

And with that, all the tension evaporated. Harry and Malfoy continued happily with senseless small talk. Every once in awhile, one commented something along the lines of “enough of this bloody awkward small-talk,” even though neither felt the slightest bit uncomfortable. After an hour they departed with cheery goodbyes, and Harry turned towards his flat smiling.

He realized he hadn’t felt this happy in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Draco is singing, by the way, is New Soul by Yael Naim. I know it didn't actually come out until way after this would be in the Harry Potter timeline, but whatever, I liked it.
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter, thanks for reading! (:


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, here's this chapter, and the next one should be out in a few days! And the next one is where things start picking up more.  
> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, minus a few muggle characters, you know the drill.

Harry was humming to himself as he passed Café Red. He backed up, considered it for a moment, then pushed the door open. He told himself he was there to treat himself to a quality cuppa, but he also wanted to surprise Malfoy with a cup of their coffee. He really enjoyed it the other week, and Harry also didn’t want to admit to himself that he wanted to visit Malfoy. He hadn’t seen Ron or Hermione in a while, and he was starting to get a little lonely all cooped up in his flat.

The blast of air conditioning was lovely, and Harry looked over at the table he and Malfoy sat at. Today there was a couple there, deep in conversation, cups of tea completely forgotten.

Harry smiled as he approached the counter, where the same young waitress was behind the cash register, doodling something on a napkin.

“Hello!” She greeted Harry, shoving her napkin under the register.

“Hi,” Harry said, “could I have a regular black tea, and a regular black coffee, please?”

“Sure thing,” She took two cups, and busied herself getting the drinks behind the counter. Harry was inspecting her name tag, which read Val, when she returned. Harry dug out the money from his wallet, and handed it over, she handed him the the coffee and tea in return. “Is the coffee for that boy you were with the other day?”

Harry nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Sorry,” she said through a giggle, “I just remembered you two from his amazing tattoo and that super blond hair.” Her eyes turned a bit day-dreamy at that, and she sighed. “It’s too bad for me that he’s already yours.”

This time Harry did choke on his tea. “N-no no, it’s like that!” Val laughed harder at that.

“Well, I apologize for assuming, but you two were really hitting it off, it seemed,” Harry felt his cheeks turn red.

“He’s just an old friend,” Harry replies. _Friend? Did I really just say friend?_ “But, yeah the coffee is incidentally for him.”

Just then, another customer queued up behind Harry. “Have a nice day, Val.” He nodded, both hands occupied with drinks, and turned away.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Val says. Harry turned around. “I like knowing the regulars’ names. The staff here has told me that you come in a lot. I’m new so I wouldn’t know, but they also said that that was the first time the other boy came in that they know of.”  
“Oh, well I’m Harry,” Harry smiled at her, “it’s nice to meet you, Val.” She smiled back, then took the next customer, and Harry made his way out to the candle shop.

~~~~~

Draco was having a rather frustrating day.

So far all but two customers that had come in have been either rude or difficult or both. Natty called off for the day, so Draco had to call up every other sales associate until one of them, Alexis, finally agreed to come in (with the promise of time and a half). They’re still way behind on sales for the week, so he and the team are trying to push all the specials they have going on, which is proving to be rather difficult with the attitude of the the day’s customers.

So when Potter waltzed in with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, he almost cried with joy.

He heard the door jangle open from behind the counter, then he heard Alexis’s polite hello, then he heard Potter say it back, and his head whipped towards the door in recognition. “Potter!”

“Malfoy!” He replied in the same overjoyed tone, which Draco winced at because the tone was rather embarrassing. Potter walked from the door to the counter, and flashed a smile. “You seem certainly happy to see me.”

“You have no idea of the customers I’ve had to deal with today,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Absolute nightmare.”

Potter offered one of the cups he was holding, and upon it is the Café Red logo. “Would this help?”

Draco gasp-smiled and accepted it eagerly. “Thank you,” he took a long sip, relishing in the delicious liquid gold. Potter just smiled. From behind him, Draco saw Alexis raise a questioning eyebrow. Draco just glared back.

Harry turned his head in the direction of the glare. Alexis smoothed her features very quickly. “Alexis, you’ve met Potter. Potter, Alexis.”

“You two know each other?” Alexis queried. Draco and Potter exchanged glances.

“You could say that,” Potter replied. “And please, call me Harry,” He said, shaking Alexis’s hand.

“Well _Harry_ , it’s nice to meet you,” Alexis questioned Draco again with a quick glance, then turned towards the front of the shop, dirty blonde curls bouncing, to greet the next pair of customers and inform them of the shop's specials.

“You really didn’t have to do this, Potter,” Draco said through the lip of the cup before taking a sip. “Now Alexis thinks we’re a _thing_.” Draco had to suppress a smile at the horrified look on Potters face.

“Wow, that’s the second time today,” Potter rolled his eyes.

“Oh?”

“The waitress at the coffee shop, the same one who took our orders last time, thought we were a _thing_ , too,” Potter took a sip of his tea, attempting to and failing to hide his red cheeks. “Which is good for her, because she seems really into you.”

“Hm.”

There was an awkward pause where each avoided eye contact and sipped their drinks.

“So what’s happening over here?” Alexis piped up, sliding next to Potter.

“Just catching up,” Draco said, eyeing Potter.

“Oh, really?” Alexis leaning her chin on her hand and looked at Draco expectantly.

“Alexis, can you _not_? Oh my God we aren’t dating.”

“Jeez, Draco, sorry. You two seem quite friendly.”

“Oh, we’re just old friends from school,” Potter offered, and Draco gave him an incredulous look, mouthing the word _friends_.

“Oh! So you went to that boarding school, too!” Alexis turned towards him fully. “Draco mentioned it once but hasn’t told me much about it, except that it was small and somewhere in Scotland.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Potter smiled, “but ‘small’ doesn’t begin to describe it. There were only five people in my dorm, which makes, what, forty-ish people in each year?” Potter looked at Draco questioningly.

“Yeah, just about,” Draco nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God! That’s crazy small!” Alexis exclaimed, wide-eyed. “Did you guys room with each other?”

They exchanged glances. “Oh Merlin, _no_.” Draco said, somewhat horrified. “I mean, Potter here was with all the crazy loudmouth sporty types. I was more dignified than that.”

“Dignified? You were always trying to get me in trouble, you and all the creeps you hung out with.”

“ _Creeps?_ ” Draco raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at Potter. “All right, first of all, that’s house stereotyping, Slytherins are not _creeps_ -”

“Slyther-whats?” Alexis piped in, “What are those?”

“Huh? Oh, the different, er- _cliques_ , you could say, had nicknames. I was a Slytherin.”

“That’s a weird nickname,” Alexis hummed. “Harry did you have a clique?”

“Oh yeah, Gryffindor. Way better than Slytherin,” Potter smirked at Draco.

“In your dreams, Potter,” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Oh my God you guys are so petty and _weird_ ,” Alexis giggled, turning towards the door as it jingled open again.

Potter and Draco caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing.

“I guess some things never change, like house rivalries,” Potter said after a moment.

“Ha, you said it,” Draco said, smirking. “Well,” Draco crushed the empty coffee cup, and threw it over his shoulder, making the bin, as if he’s done that a million times before, “I have a backroom full of new shipment that Alexis and I must somehow put out on the floor, which I should start while it’s slow,” Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, hoping he’d take the hint to leave. He did enjoy his company. It put him at ease enough during the rough day, and he knew that the shipment would be another nightmare in it of itself. There was something about Potter though that made his stomach flip, and he didn’t need that at the workplace.

“Oh, I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Potter smiled, “I’ll see you later?”

“Only if you keep barging in here,” Draco smirked, but he knew Potter could tell he didn’t mean it.

“Maybe I will.”

~~~~~

A few days later Harry visited the book shop in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts of Malfoy.

Harry’s mind was racing, again. Malfoy was certainly different from school. Harry still had no clue why on earth Malfoy was working with muggles. All they had managed to accomplish so far was small talk, even at the coffee shop, which was pretty pathetic. They weren’t awkward schoolboys anymore, they were men. And men could hold a decent conversation. Harry just found it hard to do that with Malfoy. Whenever he spoke with him he felt somewhat nervous, and whenever he saw him his chest fluttered.

Harry remarked that Malfoy did grow up well. Other than his rather gaunt appearance, his features smoothed out and he wasn’t the same pointy git anymore. His longer hair framed his face well, and he still held himself with elegance, as though he hadn’t forgotten his privileged pureblood upbringing. His eyes were as grey as ever, but now they weren’t dark with doubt or hatred, and instead they shone silver, bright and happy. And, Merlin, Malfoy was tall, he had definitely exceeded Harry in that department- _Merlin, stop thinking of Malfoy like that._

Harry realized he’d been reading the same page of a book he’d picked up for the last ten minutes. He put it back on the shelf and continued browsing, attempting to push all thoughts of Malfoy away. He had nearly succeeded, when no one other than Draco Malfoy himself entered the book shop.

He looked very disheveled, and it was the first time Harry had seen him look something other than content since he first saw him the other week. He was wearing dark skinny jeans with sandals, paired up with a tie-dye T-shirt. Harry thought it would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Malfoy it looked quite stylish.

Malfoy closed the door behind him, looking rather relieved upon entrance, until his eyes found Harry. This time it was Malfoy who looked confused. “Potter?”

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry replied, idly pulling a random book off the shelf as Malfoy approached him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Malfoy noted, pushing hair out of his face.

“Yeah,” Harry took him in, “are you alright?”

“Hm?”

“You look . . . out of sorts.”

 

“I am,”” Malfoy sighed. “You’re familiar with this ridiculous heat wave?”

“Is that it?” Harry questioned, because it wasn’t Malfoy alone suffering the heat.

“Yeah, well, my air conditioning broke last night, and my landlord isn’t going to fix it for a few days.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, thinking of how absolutely terrible it was outside. “ _Oh,_ that’s really not good.

“Yeah, you really have a way with words,” Malfoy sneered, though without the venom. “I’m just happy to be within an air conditioning building. This place is my refuge for now,” Malfoy dramatically leaned against the bookshelf. “I have no clue how I’m going to survive for the next few nights.”

“Well, if you need a place to stay, you can stay at my flat.” _Merlin, did I really just offer that?_

“Potter, are you serious?” Malfoy attempted to look incredulous, but failed. He looked rather desperate. _Yeah, he’s miserable._

“I mean unless you have somewhere else to stay? Or want to suffer in your flat,” Harry smirked, but raised his eyebrows as an invitation.

“I can’t believe I”m doing this,” Malfoy muttered under his breath, “but yes, Potter. I accept your offer.”

“All right, then,” Harry snapped his book shut, “do you want to pick up a few things at your flat? We can meet at Café Red, and walk to my place. It’s not that far.”

“Sure, if I survive the trip there and back,” Malfoy hoisted himself up from his leaning position. “Might as well get it over with,” he sighed, turning to leave. “Oh, and Potter?”

Harry placed the book back on the shelf. “Yeah?”

“Thanks,” he offered a quick half-smile, and left the book shop, leaving Harry dazed where he stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, next chapter should be up soon. The wait definitely swill not be as long this time!
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I was going to finish this on my flight back to the States but I left my phone IN ENGLAND like a GENIUS. So have this chapter which I typed on my computer while I cry about my phone.
> 
> Anyway, I just need to say that I also saw the play??? Oh my God?? I'm the luckiest ever?? It was amazing??? I love the Cursed Child book (which I just finished), but I also hate how so many people don't get to see the play, because the play translates differently (and much better) on stage than how it reads in the book.
> 
> Anyway, that happened, and I'm still psyched about it! I can't believe how lucky I was that I was able to get tickets.
> 
> Anyway, enough of me, read away!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the wizarding characters, as you know.

“You’ve impeccable taste in furniture,” Malfoy commented upon arrival, approaching the two bean bags Harry owned.

“Hey, I could kick you out you know!”

“Yes, I’m aware, but I know you won’t,” Malfoy hid a smile and dumped his belongings by the bean bags.

“At least my flat has air conditioning, you do know that most London flats don’t?” Harry went to the kitchen to make tea, turning his back to Malfoy. “And why not use a cooling charm?”

“I couldn't. I live with muggle neighbors, as you know, and my landlord would’ve been suspicious if she paid a visit,” Malfoy fell into a bean bag with a slight ‘oompf’. “These are surprisingly comfortable.”

“I hope so, because they’re really your only choice for a bed. Fancy a cuppa?”

“Please.”

Harry poured two cups of tea, listening to Malfoy mutter things that sounded like incantations behind his back, then turned to face him. He almost dropped the mugs where he stood. “Malfoy?”

“Yes?”

“Did you just conjure a television? In my flat?”

“ _No,_ I summoned mine. What do you do here for entertainment?” Malfoy questioned and began hooking it up to the wall.

“I read mostly,” Harry muttered, staring at Malfoy. _I can’t believe I’m watching_ Malfoy _mess around with a muggle television. What is my life now, anyway?_

Harry stood there gaping for a few moments while Malfoy attempted to set up the telly, swore under his breath a few times, then pulled out his wand and poked at it until the screen flashed to light.

“And voila, entertainment,” Malfoy raised his eyebrows at Harry, who offered him one of the mugs. “Cheers.”

Harry lowered himself into a bean bag and sipped his tea. Malfoy placed his next to the other bean bag. Stretched, and fell gracefully into the other. Harry didn’t know falling gracefully was possible, but leave it to Draco Malfoy to be posh at everything.

Malfoy flipped on a comedy, which Harry barely paid attention to as his thoughts were all on Malfoy. Harry watched him carefully. He was still as elegant and refined as ever, something he never seemed to have lost. His long legs were stretched in front of him, ankles crossed, and his posture was perfect, despite sitting in a bean bag, yet relaxed. His hair, which at that length would’ve been an absolute nightmare on Harry, fell stylishly around his face. Long hair definitely suited Malfoy. And so did smiling and laughing, which he was doing an awful lot of at the comedy they were watching. His tattoo didn’t cover up the ugly dark mark, but it made it not ugly, somehow. The flowers were beautiful. And his eyes were silver bright, as they were at the candle shop, and Harry couldn’t help but smile and laugh alongside Malfoy.

They did that for a while, going through a few pots of tea as the day wore on, until just before supper time, when an owl dropped by with a letter for Harry.

“That’s Hermione’s owl,” Harry paused cleaning the mugs and scanning through the letter. “Oh great, her and Ron, well by the looks of it just her, want to go out for some drinks.”

“You say that like it’s bad?” Malfoy piped in from the bean bags.

“It’s not bad, it’s just,” _I’d rather stay here with you,_ “I, er, haven’t talked to them in a while and this is rather short notice.”

“You haven’t talked to them in a while? Aren’t they your best mates?” Malfoy turned around in his bean bag to face Harry.

“Hermione’s been pretty busy with her new position at the ministry and Ron has his joke shop to run, so we haven’t spoken a lot recently, now that I think of it.” Harry hadn’t realized how long it’s been since they’ve actually spoken. In fact, Harry still had those first two candles wrapped up under his bed.

“You should go,” Malfoy’s face dropped slightly as he turned away from Harry. “It’s not good, you know, not talking to your friends.”

Harry stared at the back of Malfoy’s head for a moment, surprised at the unexpected vitriol he poorly hid in his tone, then scribbled out his ‘yes’ on the back of Hermione’s letter, and sent it back.

“You’re all good here?”

“Potter, you really shouldn’t fret about me, you’re already being too nice, letting me stay here,” Malfoy averted Harry’s gaze as Harry walked to his room, trying to catch his eyes. Honestly, he was fretting about Malfoy more than he would like to, ever since he first saw him. Even though he was plainly happy at the shop, he was still too thin, he had dark circles under his eyes, and there were scars on his arm. Harry couldn’t help but be somewhat worried. Harry didn’t think it was possible for someone to be so glowingly bright, yet so plainly unwell at the same time.

“Er- alright, then,” Harry shouted back from his room, where he found Hermione’s candles under the bed. He went back to the living area. “You’re free to have anything in the cupboards or fridge or whatever, by the way,” Harry stared at the television, “and to _summon_ whatever else you want,” to which Harry recieved a smile. Harry found his keys and wallet, and left for the usual pub they went to.

“See you later, Malfoy.”

“Bye, Harry.”

~~~~~

Hermione and Ron were already seated at the usual spot when Harry arrived at the pub. Hermione looked like a mixture of cross and worried, and Ron wasn’t showing much of anything.

“Hey,” Harry offered, taking his seat. “Everything alright?” Harry questioned, taking in Hermione’s expression.

“With us? Of course! Harry, it’s you we’re worried about! We haven’t heard from you in a few weeks and we wanted to make sure everything was okay-is everything okay?” Hermione rushed all of this out in a single breath, which bewildered Harry.

“Yes! In fact I-er, I’ve been doing well,” Harry’s eyes darted between the two, Hermione still looked concerned, but Ron was grinning.

“Sorry about that, mate, you know how she worries. I was starting to get a little worried too, “ Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione, “You usually drop in a few times a week, but we haven’t seen you at all. You’re really okay?”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically, “I said I was, so I am. Really I’ve just been busier recently,” Harry smiled at them. He hated that they worried about him, when had he ever given them something to worry about, anyway?

“Busy?” Hermione was more relaxed now, and her big brown eyes were bright again. “Did you start working again?”

“Er-no, not exactly. I’ve just been going out more,” Harry could detect what they were about to ask, and quickly diverted the conversation. “But anyway, Hermione, how’s the new position? I’ve actually been meaning to congratulate you with these,” Harry gave her the package, which he hadn’t wrapped, so Hermione knew what it was from the bag.

“Oh Harry! Thank you!” Hermione pulled out a candle and sampled it. “The new job is keeping me extremely busy, it’s a lot of work, but I love it. And I love this, it’s my favorite!’

“I know,” Harry and Ron said at the same time, catching each other’s eye.

“I haven’t gotten some in _ages_!”

“Yeah the scent was _finally_ starting to wear-” Ron started, “I mean, I’m sure it’ll be lovely in the flat.” Harry raised his eyebrows at him to say _Nice save_.

Hermione rolled her eyes at them, “Well, thank you Harry.”

“No problem,” Harry thought about telling them how he ran into Malfoy there, but he couldn’t. Even though the whole story about it was true, it sounded crazy. Yet, it was just the thing he would’ve jumped at the chance to tell them about weeks ago, he couldn’t do it now. He and Malfoy were actually somehow getting on. Ron would think he’d lost it if Harry let it slip that that was the case. Harry decided it was best not to say anything.

“I’ll go get us some drinks, we’ve been sitting here bothering the staff for long enough, excuse me,” Hermione left Ron and Harry alone.

“So Harry, you’ve been going out? Do I know her?” _So much for diverting the conversation._

“Yeah, but just going out, as in _outside_. To, like, bookstores and coffee shops and meeting people and what not.”

“Boo, you’re no fun!” Ron made a face at Harry, to which Harry rolled his eyes.

“Still more fun than you.”

“He said to the man running a joke shop!” Ron laughed. "But, really, do you think you might try to find someone? I know things didn't work out with Gin, but . . ."

"I might, but not now," Harry looked at his best friend. Ron was concerned. Harry could tell, even if he wasn't as obvious as Hermione. "I know things didn't work out with Gin, we are really better off as friends. And anyway, I'm not much into-er . . . dating, at the moment," Harry finished awkwardly.

At that point, Hermione arrived with three cocktails.

“Those are fancy,” Harry commented, taking one of the cranberry-colored drinks.

“They’re cosmos. I thought we’d be a little nicer tonight as it’s been a while.”

“Aren’t those girl-drinks?” Ron glared at the cocktail.

“Oh Merlin, Ron, grow up.” Hermione swatted him with a napkin.

Harry smiled at his two best friends. Maybe Malfoy was right when he said you should never stop talking to your friends, even just for a few weeks.

~~~~~

Draco was up very early the next day. It took him a moment to realise where he was, as he didn’t remember his bed being so comfortable, but _oh right_ , he was sleeping on beanbags and this was Potter’s flat. It was Harry’s flat. Perhaps he should use his given name. It was really quite kind of him to let Draco stay there.

Draco stood up and stretched, and he noticed a blanket had appeared overnight. _Oh, I fell asleep before Harry got home._ And _oh_ , Harry had put it there. Draco was thankful no one was around to see the pink creep into his cheeks. He folded it up and neatly placed it on one of the beanbags, which he re-straightened.

Draco retrieved some fresher clothes (a pair of black skinny jeans with a leather belt, and and solid black T-shirt he would tuck in.) and necessities from what he’d brought over then retreated to the bathroom for a shower and a shave. Draco took a longer shower than usual, as Harry’s shower was larger and hotter than his, and he hadn’t felt that good in ages.

It was 6:37 by the time he finished. _What time does Harry even get up?_ He knew it was early, but then decided it would be a nice gesture to make him breakfast. He could make some for himself, too. He realized he hadn’t really eaten much the day before, and actually felt a little hungry now.

Draco raided Harry’s fridge and cabinets, then decided that Harry had the tastebuds of a flobberworm and summoned some edible ingredients from his own flat.

Very soon the flat was filled with the delicious smell of cooking bacon and eggs. Draco, who was still feeling excellent from the shower, had started on pancakes when he heard a voice behind him.

“They should make a candle of that, it smells amazing.”

Draco turned around to see Harry leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, hair as messy as ever with a light stubble, glasses slightly askew, dressed in pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt, all the color of Gryffindor red. Draco felt his heart leap unexpectedly and had to force his gaze away to the task at hand.

“Good morning, Harry,” Draco greeted him, cursing the pink that flushed his face.

“What’s all this?” Draco could see Harry approach him from the corner of his eye.

“Well, I noticed your kitchen was empty of any _real_ food, so I thought I’d show you what it looks like,” Draco offered Harry a slight smirk. “I also wanted to thank you for letting me stay.”

“You didn’t have to,” Harry helped himself to a thick slice of bacon. “Merlin, this is _fucking delicious_.”

“You have an excellent way with words.”

“Oh shut it, Draco.”

Draco paused, spatula halfway under a pancake, and looked at Harry, surprised at the use of his given name. Of course, he had used Harry’s first, but this was what Draco had wanted since he was eleven. And for one moment Draco was thrown back in time and on the scarlet train, offering his hand to a boy he wanted so desperately to be his friend.

Then the split second passed, and Draco broke the gaze. “So you’re up pretty early?”

“Look who’s talking,” Harry took another bite of bacon, “You woke me up, by the way. You sing in the shower.”

Draco actually dropped the spatula at this. “Oh God, you heard that?!” And Harry bent over laughing. “Oh shut up! Sorry for waking you anyway.”

“No, Draco, your face was just _priceless_ ,” Harry straightened himself. “And it’s fine, your voice is actually really good.” Harry smiled at him, then averted his gaze. “Well, amazing actually. I can’t sing for my life.”

Draco hid his embarrassed smile by picking up and washing the dirtied spatula. After an awkward moment, he cleared his throat.

“Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

“I’ll get it, and I know you prefer coffee," Harry offered. Draco finished the pancakes, then went to retrieve the plates.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from pouring the coffee. “Yes?”

“Are these _paper plates?_ ”

“Yeah, I, er, don’t really like doing the dishes,” Harry said flatly. 

Draco stared at him for a second before summoning his own plates. “I can get the dishes, Harry, just no more paper plates, you heathen,” Draco said, handing Harry his plate. Then without thinking, he hopped on the counter like a chair. Harry laughed.

“What?”

“Yes, I’m the heathen, yet you’re the one sitting on my counter like a chair,” Harry smiled and raised his eyebrows at Draco.

“Just shut up and eat your eggs.”

~~~~~

“So, Draco, I stopped by you’re flat yesterday, twice, and you weren’t there,” Harper questioned him, looking very much like a concerned mother, to which Draco scoffed. He made sure the shop was empty of customers before replying.

“Why were you at my flat?” Draco retorted. He stopped filling out sales reports to glare at her.

“You weren’t answering your mobile, so I wanted to check to see you were okay!”

“Ah, I knew I forgot something!” Draco had totally forgotten to bring his mobile to Harry’s, which he only really used for work. “And Merlin, Harper, you’re not my mother, you don’t need to stop by my flat.”

“You know I worry about you Draco,” Harper moved closer and touched his tattooed arm. “Since you left my place, I just need to know you’re okay.”

“Harper, I’m fine, alright?” Draco knew this wasn’t enough for her. She cared so much for him, and it did hurt Draco that he worried her. She had found Draco at his absolute worst, and even though he had finally crawled out of that pit, he didn’t blame her for worrying he might crawl back in. 

Draco turned to look her straight in the eye. “I promise Harper, I’m not doing anything. I haven’t tried anything. I’m really better now. Thanks to you, really.”

“Draco, you’re still so . . .” Draco noticed Harper inspecting his frame, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know,” he whispered.

“You look almost exactly as thin as-when-the time I-are you eating enough?” Harper clutched his arm now.

“Harper, I’m sorry to worry you, but please-you shouldn’t.”

“Where were you yesterday Draco?”

“I just over at a-er-friend’s place,” Draco pulled his arm away and went back to the paper work.

“Really?” Harper looked at him, still, doubtfully. She had never met a friend of his.

“Really, Harper,” Draco flashed her a smile, “it’s okay.”  
Luckily for Draco, the door jangled open at that moment.

“I want you to be more than just okay,” Harper said quietly and meaningfully, before turning her back on him and walking towards the door. Draco pondered this as his gaze followed her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep saying the next chapter won't be long from now, but by now I'm sure you all know that isn't true, but I'll still try my best to get it out asap :)  
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter six! This one is a little heavier than the others, but it's also full of more fluff at the same time! Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the wizarding characters or anything, you know.

Draco was most certainly _not_ okay a few days later, slamming open the door to Harry’s flat, which hit the wall, _hard._

“Whoa, are you okay?” Harry stood up from his position on the bean bag, turning to his temporary flatmate, who was basically seeing red.

“Pansy,” Draco hissed, throwing his bag down and storming into the kitchen. He summoned a very large bottle of Firewhiskey.

“What happened?” Harry questioned from the kitchen entrance.

Draco found a glass, popped open the bottle and poured himself a generous amount, hands shaking. He took a long swig before answering.

“She paid me a visit at work today,” Draco replied flatly, staring at the flaming amber liquid. Harry approached him warily from the archway, now standing closer. Draco glanced at his eyes, which were brimming with concern and confusion. _Of course, he wouldn’t know._

Draco poured a second glass, handing it to Harry, who accepted it. He hesitated before taking a sip.

“Pansy and I-” _You can tell him, he’s your friend, now, right?_ ”We had a rough falling out a while back, when I was . . .”

“Draco,” Harry’s voice was cautious, but warm, “you can tell me anything . . . you know.”

Draco looked at Harry in the eye. He must have thought it crazy, where Draco was in his life right now, given his history. It was crazy, mental, for the school-day Draco to be doing this, but all those years since the war had changed him. And Harry knew that. He really could trust Harry and tell him anything.

Draco turned around and hopped onto the counter, breaking the gaze. Harry supported his lower back against the counter space next to him, looking up at Draco.

“After you spoke at my trials, the ministry took everything that the Malfoys owned, including any sort of inheritance and the manor, which left me with nothing. When I left the ministry that afternoon, I had nowhere to go. I don’t think I could ever forget that first night, no matter how much I wanted to. My father, my mother, they were both put into Azkaban. My mother . . . She didn’t deserve it, it was all his fault, I think. I knew at the end, my mother only wanted me safe and us out of the whole ordeal, but my father wouldn’t give up all of his glory under the Dark Lord. He was the one who deserved Azkaban,” Draco paused, refilling his glass. Harry stayed silent.

“Anyways, that first night I needed to find somewhere to go, so I owled Pansy. Everyone else I knew, their families were still on trial or already in Azkaban, but Pansy was barely involved in the war, so she got off easily.

“Pansy replied saying that she couldn’t take me. It was too soon, the ministry would ask questions, my name was too dangerous, things that hurt, but made sense at the time. That night I found my way into the muggle Underground and tried to sleep down there. I don’t think I slept at all that night, but at least I found shelter.”

“And then, er-” Draco took a shuddering breath, which he swallowed down with firewhiskey.

“Draco, if this is too hard for you . . .” Draco glanced down at Harry, who was now facing him. His eyes were wide and full of something that was much too close to pity for Draco’s taste, and were brimming with another emotion Draco couldn’t quite place.

“N-no, Harry, I’m okay,” Draco wasn’t particularly happy with this point of his life, and he had tried to block it out, but he wanted to tell Harry what he could remember. He hadn’t ever told anyone this. Harry was just _so easy_ to talk to, and Draco didn’t realize how badly he needed to talk. “I started staying in the Underground stations as a sanctuary, and I didn’t really eat much. I couldn’t afford to, and that’s how things were for a while.”

“I had no idea,” Harry was clutching his glass, knuckles whitening. “I didn’t know any of this was happening to you.”

“In all honesty, Harry, I’m sure you had more important things to worry about. It’s okay, I can’t much remember a lot of the next year or so, anyway,” Draco diverted his gaze back to his glass of flaming amber.

“But then, one day, I woke up to a girl, shaking me and hissing my name. It was Pansy. I hadn’t heard from her since the first night, but there she was, dressed like a muggle business woman. And her hair was short, like a boy’s, but still fierce. And Pansy was _very_ fierce. She started saying a lot of things very quickly, and I think she was yelling, but I couldn’t really register what she was saying.

“My head was . . . fuzzy, most of the time then, but I thought that maybe she had come back for me, to help me. My one friend, she would help me, right?” Draco’s voice went bitter, and he topped off his glass. He ran and hand through his hair and took another gulp. Harry stood there, waiting, his eyes still wide and full.

“The next thing I knew, my cheek was stinging. She had actually hit me, and made sure I was listening. I’ve never known anyone else with such a selfish heart. She called me pathetic, and a waste of a Malfoy and a pureblood. She was so _angry._ I hadn’t said anything then. She just rolled her eyes, threw me back and clicked her heels away. I realized then that everything she had done at Hogwarts for me was just for show and just for herself. She just used me for my name to make herself look good. And even after the war, she-her attitude-hadn’t changed a bit. I fell into a deeper pit after that,” Draco subconsciously traced the scars on his arm, Harry’s eyes following the movement. “And then she showed her face today, at my work, after how she treated me.” He took another long swig of his drink to ease his rising anger. He could definitely feel it now. Sometimes he thought a strong drink was more effective than any veritaserum. 

Draco stared into his drink once more. He was done talking about this. He thought if he went on anymore he would never stop talking and he would be consumed in his anger and misery. He didn’t want to crawl back into that pit, and he had promised Harper he would never, no matter how much he knew he deserved it.

After a few moments of silence, Harry spoke.

“She didn’t ever change then? Today?” Harry took a step towards Draco.

“No. Well, you saw how I barged in here,” Draco closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to calm down. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Draco, it’s fine, you’re fine,” Harry leaned against the counter again, closer this time. “Why didn’t you ever owl me? Back then?”

“I just . . . Didn’t think you would care,” Draco replied honestly. “I mean, you had already done more than enough, way more than I deserved, by speaking for me at the trials, and it’s not like we were ever friends at school, _That_ was very clear to me.” _No matter how much I wanted it._

“And when you needed a friend the most . . .” Harry trailed off, looking up at Draco, as Draco was looking at him very intently.

“But, Harry, now we’re . . .” _He’s your friend now, right?_ A voice inside his head rang. Draco leaned closer to Harry.

“Friends,” Harry whispered, barely audible. Draco’s heart leapt. _Right?_

Harry leaned more towards Draco. They we so close.

“Friends,” Draco’s voice cracked, and he went closer. Draco thought Harry would back away, but instead he glanced at Draco’s lips. Draco closed the distance between them, lips brushing.

And then he was kissing Harry Potter.

_He’s your friend now, right?_

_Wrong._

Harry turned fully to Draco, pressing himself closer, entwining one arm around the small of Draco’s back, and running his other hand up through Draco’s hair. Draco deepened the kiss, and was satisfied when Harry responded. Draco wrapped one hanging leg around Harry’s, and pulled him closer still with a free arm around his shoulders. Harry smiled into the kiss, which sent Draco reeling.

The next thing he knew, he leaned too far in, and fell off the counter, and on top of Harry. Now, they were a tangled heap on the floor. The kiss was broken, but Harry just laughed, which caused Draco to laugh at how ridiculous they became, and then they were laughing together, and kissing. Merlin, they were _kissing. I’m kissing Harry Potter._ He was suddenly giddy on alcohol and Harry. And he needed to laugh. He needed it so badly at this moment, when his world was flipped upside down, who knew the only person who could make it better was Harry Potter?

And Draco knew his heart had been fluttering since their first meeting at the coffee shop, but he kept denying that he wanted Harry. Hell, he knew he had wanted Harry since he was eleven, but only as friends. But now . . . _yeah, right._

And then Harry was on his feet, and pulled Draco up off the floor. Draco, relieved of his burden of Pansy, heart floating with joy, and Harry, who finally admitted maybe he really _was_ obsessed with Draco Malfoy, both of which just had maybe a little too much to drink, stumbled together to Harry’s lone bedroom, laughing all the way.

~~~~~

Harry woke up very late the next morning, the sun was shining much too bright in his room. He rolled over rubbing his eyes, and was surprised when he opened them to see Draco Malfoy asleep next to him.

Harry pushed the surprise away, the previous night flooding back to him. He remembered a lot of alcohol, and Draco was freaking out. Draco told him so much that it hurt to think, and then he leaned in, and Draco leaned in, too, and then- _oh my God I kissed Draco Malfoy._ Then, _Why are we in bed together?_

Harry propped himself on one elbow trying to remember. He noticed his shirt was gone, crumpled by the doorway, and so was Draco’s. Harry panicked for a moment, but it apparently had stopped there, as the rest of him was covered.

Harry’s heart was beating quickly, but at the sight of a sleeping Draco it almost stopped and flew out of his chest. Draco looked so calm and peaceful. His gaunt features were smoothed over and he appeared to be glowing, as the sun was shining brightly off of his white-blond hair, which flowed smoothly and framed his face even in sleep. His mouth was open slightly, and Harry glanced at his lips, remembering the way they felt against his own the night before.

Harry was smiling as Draco stirred in his sleep, eyes then fluttering open. He looked confused for a second, and Harry panicked. _Oh shit, I messed everything up last night, it’s over._ But then, Draco caught sight of Harry and smiled, and Harry never felt better in his life.

“Good morning,” Draco mumbled sleepily, eyes shining. He made a satisfied noise as he stretched, then he pulled himself up. Harry stayed propped up on one elbow, eyes wandering to the long scar that ran across Draco’s chest, and he felt a pang of guilt.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Draco looked down at him, and Harry blinked, his eyes returning to Draco’s face, unbelieving. He had known he had been thinking of Draco since he first saw him, thinking of him in _that way._ He tried to deny it, but here Draco was, happy to wake up next to him, and Harry knew he had finally fallen for him.

“I’m just . . .” Harry trailed, mind racing back to the moment, then smiled up at Draco again,, “I’m happy to see you.” And at that Draco bent over Harry, running his fingers through Harry’s hair, kissed him gently, and Harry allowed it, heart racing.

After a lovely moment, Harry pushed a hand to Draco’s chest, pushing him back slightly.

“What?”

“Hey, at least make me breakfast first!” Harry flashed Draco a smile, to which Draco rolled his eyes in response. He pulled back and left Harry alone for the kitchen, but not before hitting him with a pillow.

Harry laid in his bed in bliss until the smell frying bacon wafted into the room. He took that as his cue to get up, and his made his way to the kitchen, where he could hear Draco’s voice. He was singing.

_“Life could be a dream, if I could take you up in paradise up above, if you would tell me I’m the only one that you love, my life could be a dream, sweetheart._

_“Oh, life could be a dream, if only all my precious plans would come true, if you would let me spend my whole life loving you, my life could be a dream, sweetheart.”_

“I love that song,” Harry interrupted from the archway.

“You know it?” Draco paused what he was doing and turned to Harry. His hair was ruffled, cheeks slightly pink, but he was smiling, if not sheepishly. “It’s kind of old.”

“Yeah, Ron’s dad likes listening to old muggle music,” Harry walked closer to Draco, and tentatively wrapped an arm around his bare waist. Draco leaned into it and continued cooking. Harry’s confidence soared. “I took a liking to it.”

“Sometimes at work, they play older muggle music, and it is quite catchy,” Draco agreed. Harry hummed in response, then decided to cut to it.

“So, Draco,” Harry’s grip on Draco loosened slightly, “are we . . .?” Harry trailed off. Draco turned slightly toward him again.

“Only if you want to be, Harry.”

“I like you, Draco.” Harry’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

“Yeah, I worked that out,” Draco put down his cooking, and now faced Harry fully. “Harry, you’ve been so kind to me, unbelievably kind to me since we met again.” Draco’s face was soft. “You’ve become what I consider a friend, and I-” Draco paused, uncertain, “I’ve really needed a friend. For the longest time, and you gave that to me.”

“Draco, I want to be . . .” _More than friends._ Harry didn’t know how it was possible for him to fall so quickly in love. _I love Draco Malfoy._ His heart pounded faster. He knew he’d been obsessed for long enough, anyway.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist in return, and gave him a knowing smile.

“Me too.”

~~~~~

“Hey boys,” Val chimed when Draco and Harry entered the coffee shop. “Welcome back!”

“Hello,” Draco and Harry said together as they walked over to the same table as the first time. Draco pulled out Harry’s chair along with a grand, and slightly mocking, gesture, to which Harry hit him on the arm. Draco didn’t have to work until that evening, so he had proposed a coffee date.

At that moment, Val appeared at the side of the table. “So, what are we getting?”

“I’ll have just coffee, and a lot of it, please, because I haven’t had any drinkable coffee in a while,” 

“Draco, you had two cups of my coffee just this morning.”

“You heard what I said,” Draco smiled, giving Harry a sidelong glance.

“And for you, Harry?” Val asked, poorly suppressing a giggle.

“A cappuccino, please,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes at Draco. Val left them, giving Harry a disbelieving look as she departed.

“She knows,” Harry stated, watching her leave.

“Yes, you hitting me was quite convincing,” Draco smirked at Harry, who laughed. Harry felt so happy in this moment, something he knew couldn’t last very long.

“So,” Draco began, giving Harry a tentative look, “we’re together now.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, “kind of crazy, huh?”

“Mental,” Draco agreed, smiling as he reached for Harry’s hand. Harry didn’t pull back.

“I’ll have to tell Ron and Hermione,” Harry stroked the back of Malfoy’s tattooed hand.

“That could be problematic,” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t even thought of them.”

“I haven’t seen them since that night at the pub, and that was, what, a week ago?” Harry’s face showed concern. “They’re sure to come asking questions again. I don’t think I was very convincing last week.”

“We weren’t even, well, a thing last week.”

“But you were living in my flat, and still are.”

“About that,” Draco squeezed Harry’s hand, “the landlord finally got around to fixing the air conditioning in the building,” Draco gazed up at Harry, who smiled back.

“You don’t want to leave now, do you?”

“No!” Draco said, perhaps too loudly, “I mean, if that’s okay.”

“I figured, since we’re now, what did you say? A ‘thing’?” 

“Yes, a ‘thing’, Harry,” Draco raised his eyebrows, “as in boyfriends. I didn’t want to pull the b-word, as it might’ve been too strong for your fragile heart,” he smirked.

“Look who you’re talking to,” Harry gestured to himself with his free hand.

“Not together my arse,” Val returned then with coffee and a cappuccino, laughing. Draco pulled a face at that, cheeks reddening rapidly.

“You caught us,” Harry laughed, letting go of Draco hand to take his drink.

“It’s recent,” Draco said, accepting his coffee with a smile.

“Recent?”

“As in last night,” Draco replied, and Val let out a bark of laughter, “No! Not like that,” Draco groaned, pushing his hair out of his face, the red on his cheeks deepening.

“Well, then I’ll leave you two to it,” Val giggled, waggling her eyebrows at Harry as she left..

“Oh God,” Draco grumbled, taking a big sip of coffee.

“Who knew that you, the great Draco Malfoy, could be so socially awkward!” Harry said theatrically.

“Hey! It’s just . . . shut up,” Draco laughed. “But, anyway, you should really tell, er, Ron and Hermione. Sooner rather than later, or it could turn ugly.”

“I know, I just don’t know how they’ll . . .”

“React, I know. To me. I know it’ll probably be ugly either way,” Draco’s brow furrowed, concerned. “What do you think?”

Harry pondered this for a moment. Hermione would probably be okay with it. Well, she would be okay with the fact that Harry fancied men, but _Draco?_ Harry just didn’t know. And Ron? Harry honestly couldn’t tell how he would react to how Harry liked men, and would probably flip a table at the fact that he was going with Draco.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered honestly after a moment. “As far as I know, they’re still under the impression that I’m straight.”

“To be fair, I thought that was the case up until last night,” Draco glanced up at Harry, “but you were staring at me quite a lot over the past week, so I kind of figured.”

“Really?” Harry turned pink, “You noticed that?”

“I have eyes, Harry,” Draco laughed. “But apparently you’re still too thick to have noticed that I was staring back just as much.”

“Really?” Harry’s heart fluttered,

“Oh my God,” Draco’s fingers danced back around Harry’s hand, and Harry reached back holding on, trying to stop the room from spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! More to come soon. :)
> 
> Also, the song Draco sings in this chapter is "Sh-Boom" originally by The Chords, but the version I was thinking of when I wrote this is by Mc6 A Capella, which is amazing. It's a more modern version, done a capella style obviously, which I'm a sucker for. I recommend giving both a listen. The Crew Cuts did a version as well, which was the first version I ever heard, and it's awesome as well!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry again for the delay, between work and classes starting up again, I got a bit sidetracked!  
> Thank you so much for over 1k hits!! That's really awesome :D  
> Here's the next chapter, and just so you all know, this is probably the second-to-last one, so thank you all for reading!!

Draco woke up happily next to Harry every morning for the next couple of weeks. And every morning he sang as he made breakfast, and Harry trailed out after him, rubbing his eyes and smiling as he listened. A few times Harry even turned on a muggle radio, and Draco sang along with it. And every morning was perfect. Then Draco would go to work, or perhaps the two would go out and explore central London together if Draco had the day off, as neither had really seen it, being too preoccupied with other thoughts or activities.

_“When I had you to myself, I didn’t want you around. Those pretty faces always made you stand out in a crowd!”_

“Oh my God, that song,” Harry was making the coffee (grounds they bought from Cafe Red, because Draco had insisted) while Draco made breakfast.

Draco smiled as flung out his arms in a theatrical pose, spatula flinging bits of eggs everywhere, _“But someone picked you from the bunch, one glance was all it took, and now it’s much too late for me to take a second look!”_

“I’m done,” Harry turned on the coffee maker, and went back into their room, hands up in mock surrender. Draco laughed, and kept singing.

 _”Trying to live without your love is one long sleepless night, let me show you, boy, that I know wrong from right!”_ At that moment in the second verse, Draco thought he heard a door open. Probably Harry returning to mock his singing. Draco knew he loved it anyway.

_“Every street you walk on I leave tear stains on the ground, following the boy I didn’t even want around! Oh baby, all l I need is one more-”_

_”What the fuck?”_

That was definitely not Harry.

Draco whipped around, dropping the spatula on the counter, and was very caught off guard to see a very angry and confused looking Ronald Weasley gaping in the archway. He recovered quickly, pulling up his defense of cold indifference.

“Weasley, how polite of you to drop by,” Draco leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, “there this new fad, I thought you might like to know, it’s calling _knocking._ ”

“Malfoy!? What the hell are you doing in Harry’s flat?” Ron yelled, reaching for his wand. At that moment, Harry appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, wrestling on a shirt, wand in hand.

“Cooking?” Draco offered, smirking at the bewildered Weasley.

“Ron!” Harry looked surprised and panicked, but his voice rang loud and clear.

“Harry-” Ron looked back and forth between Draco and Harry, hand paused over his wand, and spat out “what is going on? Why is this- _this Death Eater_ in your flat?”

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but it felt as though all the air had been knocked out of his chest. _Death Eater._

“Ron, what are _you_ doing in my flat?” Harry took two furious steps towards Ron, who stepped back.

“Hermione was concerned with your lack of appearances and was too busy to check on you herself, which is why she had you give me a key in the first place, mind you. To do _this_. Harry, tell me, what the _hell_ is this?”

Harry looked at Draco, “I-we-just . . .”

Draco sighed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face and his thoughts away. “Harry and I are _together_ , Weasley.” There was a beat of silence. “If that wasn’t obvious enough for you,” Draco added.

Ron looked shocked. “Harry?” His voice shook slightly, mostly out of rage.

Harry pulled himself together and nodded. “Yeah.”

“I can’t believe this,” Ron leaned against the archway. “You’re not gonna tell me this is some kind of twisted joke?”

Harry and Draco exchanged pained glances.

“Harry, why didn’t ever tell me you were-that you preferred . . .?”

“That I was gay, Ron? Because you would flip out, like this.”

“I don’t care that you like men, Harry. What I can’t believe that you're going with Malfoy? _Malfoy?_ ” Ron spat out his name, and Harry looked hurt.

“Ron, he’s . . .” Harry looked at Draco, pleadingly, “. . . changed. He’s changed so much,” and a hint of warmth and affection shone in his eyes. Draco couldn’t help but smile slightly at Harry, who looked at him still with love, even after Ron’s outburst.

“ _Changed_ , Harry? Death Eaters don’t change,” Ron stared down Draco with utter contempt. Draco looked back warily, and couldn’t help but grip onto his left forearm, shame flooding into his face. “Especially this one,” Ron added, following the movement. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the beautiful flowers inked around it, but he hid his surprise quickly.

“Ron you don’t know him like I do,” Harry stayed where he stood, and appeared to be brimming with anger, but he still kept it in check.

“I don’t think I need to,” Ron spat, and made to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered, hardly audible, gripping his left arm so tightly his knuckles began to turn white.

Ron stopped where he stood, and whipped around. “What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, still soft, meeting Ron’s angry gaze with a rather timid one.

“Malfoy-” Ron began angrily, but cut himself off. His rage was now mixed with confusion. He shot another glance at Harry, then spun back towards the door, and stormed out, slamming it shut. The bang reverberated throughout the whole flat, resonating within Draco. He and Harry stood there in silence for a long moment.

Draco let out a shaky breath, turned off the heat on the stove top, then sank to the floor, back against the counter. He just couldn’t find the strength to stand after that. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cool wood.

A moment later, he sensed Harry sit next to him, and then a comforting arm slid around his shoulders. He leaned into it, trying to steady his breath and his heartbeat.

“I’ll talk to him,” Harry whispered into Draco’s hair.

“Harry,” Draco took in a shuddering breath, “I think maybe he’s right.”

Harry tensed up around Draco, “What?”

“He’s right,” Draco repeated, staring vacantly at the tile of Harry’s floor. “I mean, why me, Harry? I’m barely anything next to you,” Draco swallowed a lump rising in his throat. “I’m a Death Eater, or was one, okay? I couldn’t even support myself for _years_ after the war, and I struggle to hold on to my flat and still have enough to eat. I work at a fucking _muggle shop_ , which is nothing at all next to what you’ve done, Harry. And the only reason I work there is because the manager found me half-dead in the Underground one night, and felt _sorry_ for me,” Draco untangled himself from Harry’s arms, then sprang to his feet, looking at Harry. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, and it took all Draco had to keep it together. He couldn’t stop these thoughts that had been haunting him from escaping. “I have never done anything worthy of respect or worthy of you. I’m just a sorry looking Death Eater who can barely make it on his own. It’s so pathetic, _I’m_ so pathetic. So why me?” _And I was actually proud of my work at the shop._

Harry sat against the counter, too stunned to speak. There was an agonizing moment of silence before Draco turned round, willing himself to _not fucking cry_. His hand was on the door handle by the time Harry spoke.

“Draco-”

“Harry, you know you-”

“Draco, _stop._ ” Harry placed a firm hand on Draco’s shoulder, causing him to stumble back. “Just stop and listen to me for two fucking seconds, okay?”

Draco turned around and leaned back against the door, ready to bolt if these tears kept threatening him.

“Do you honestly believe that I think that? That you don’t deserve me?” Draco met Harry’s eyes, which were full of hurt. His silence was his answer. “Do you even know how I feel about you? How you make me feel, Draco?” Harry’s voice was rising rapidly. Draco was still stunned into silence.

“I have never in my life felt as happy as I do with you. Honestly, these last few days have been absolutely unbelievable, Draco. You’re the closest I’ve ever felt to family since the Weasley’s okay? And, God, Draco, I know you’ve been so lonely,” Harry broke the gaze, and looked at the floor. “I have too.”

“I know, I have Ron and Hermione, but they’ve also got each other. They love each other, for Merlin’s sake. I just-I impose on them. _All the time._ God, I can’t even step into their flat without feeling like I’m intruding.”

“Draco, haven’t you even figured out that I don’t work? I can’t, I couldn’t do auror training-they kicked me out. It was such a disaster. The war was too fresh and everything just felt so so _similar_. I couldn’t handle it. The only reason I can afford this life now is through royalties from those books people have wrote about me, and by dipping into my parent’s Gringott’s vault on occasion.”

“Before you moved in, before I even ran into you that first time, I had nothing in my life. There was just this huge pit that I never bothered to even try to fill. I rarely ever went out, and sometimes, I-I couldn’t even get out of _bed,_ ” Harry covered his face with a hand.

Draco stared at Harry, stunned. How did he never know this? How did he never realize it? Here he had always thought Harry’s life was so perfect. He thought he was still in auror training, for Merlin’s sake. He didn’t even realize Harry never left for work in the time he was living here, as he’d been too preoccupied with his own work. And had Harry really gone so long without work, staying in his flat, rarely going out? Struggling with the thoughts inside his head?

_How could he have not known sooner?_

“And Draco,” Harry continued, removing his hand from his face, voice wavering, “you filled that pit. Now I have something, some _one_ , to look forward to every morning. I have someone to get out of bed for.” Harry met Draco’s eyes again, and reached for his hands with his own, interlocking their fingers.

“Harry,” Draco’s voice cracked, and he swallowed down the still rising lump in his throat. “I didn’t know, Harry,” Draco made to continue, but Harry kept speaking.

“You don’t think you deserve me? Ha, I’m a mess Draco,” Harry smiled, eyes shining as they met his. “I was even questioning myself if I deserved you,” Harry paused as Draco’s eyes widened, full of surprise and doubt.

“Here I was, living comfortably in my flat, while you were out there fighting for your own life. You were building a new one from _nothing_ , after everything you knew was taken away from you. You didn’t ever give up,” Harry’s voice cracked, and his hand trailed up Draco’s left arm, where he traced Draco’s scars gently with his thumb, “even though you wanted to. Even though you wanted everything to stop, you kept fighting and got through it. You recovered and built a new life, and while you might see it as pathetic, which it _isn’t_ ,” Harry paused, staring deep into Draco’s wide eyes, “I see it as incredibly strong. And so brave, Draco, and I might know a thing or two about being brave.”

“Harry,” Draco began, but he didn’t know what to say. Did Harry really think that? _He does, he really does._ Draco had never thought of himself in that light, not even at school. Draco felt a hot tear escape and run down his cheek, overwhelmed by the thoughts of what Harry had really gone through after the war, and by the words he had said to him, and he couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping his lips. “I don’t think-”

“I know you don’t think,” Harry said simply, and Draco let out a weak laugh.

“I’m a mess.”

“Me too, Draco,” and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist as he did that first morning, and Draco returned the gesture. And Harry leaned in, brushing lips, then pressed himself into Draco, cupping his face in his hand and gently wiping away the tear. Draco returned the kiss, softly yet fully, feeling relief at Harry's words. He had never thought of what Harry could be thinking, unless, of course, it was bad. He had never given himself the benefit of the doubt that Harry might really be thinking that Draco was worth it. Perhaps he should do that more often.

Draco pressed his body into Harry, and Harry pressed him back against the door, one leg between Draco’s. Draco released the kiss, and went instead for Harry’s neck, leaving his mark. Harry let him, laughing about how now everyone will be asking questions, to which Draco replied, “Let them.”

Harry pulled back smiling, catching Draco’s eye. They stayed like that for a moment’s silence.

“Maybe I will.”

Draco smiled back.

~~~~~

“ _Harry!_ ” Hermione exclaimed as she opened her door to find a rather flustered Harry standing in the hall. “What happened this morning? I sent Ron over to check on you, and he came back in a sour mood and wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Is he here?”

“No, well, he left almost as soon as he came back. I don't know where he stormed off to, though. Oh, and please come in. Tea?” Harry went in and turned to face Hermione who was shutting the door.

“I need to tell you something, Hermione, since Ron apparently didn’t. And yeah, that'd be nice.” Hermione beckoned Harry to the couch, then disappeared into the kitchen.

Harry really hoped Hermione’s reaction would be much calmer than Ron’s, and he knew it would be. Hermione wasn’t the type to blow up like he or Ron did on occasion. He just wanted her to accept him. How on earth was he going to do this?

Hermione returned with two steaming cups of tea a few minutes later, and Harry took his gratefully. Hermione sat opposite Harry on the couch, facing him and curling her legs up under her. They sat in silence for a few moments while Harry found the right words.

“I should first tell you that I am seeing someone now,” Harry paused, taking in Hermione’s reaction. Her eyes lit up and gasped as an exclamation.

“Oh, Harry! That's great! I’m so happy for you,” she paused, noticing that Harry wasn’t returning her joy. “What’s the problem then, do I know her?”

“Well, er, it’s a he,” Harry paused, Hermione was giving him a knowing look, which made Harry rush out the rest, “and we’re living together in my flat, and Ron kind of barged in and saw him in my kitchen, but . . .” Harry paused under Hermione’s look. “What?”

“Oh, I just suspected that you were seeing someone, as you’ve seemed rather busy and you said you weren’t working. And I’m not really surprised you’re seeing a man, either. When we used to go out more I noticed you tended to stare a little longer at men, and you never gave women a second glance-” Hermione paused, and her smile turned into a frown, “Wait, is _that_ why Ron was upset? Oh my God just wait until I talk to him-”

“ _Hermione_ , Ron was fine with it. Well, he was fine that he’s a he. But, well . . .”

“Who is he, Harry?” Hermione put down her mug. “You can tell me anything, you know.” And it struck Harry how much her words sounded like his to Draco. Harry swallowed down his uneasiness at this situation, taking in Hermione’s words of comfort.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione looked surprised for a short second, then spoke. “And that’s why Ron was upset,” she was nodding in understanding. Harry gave her a puzzled look. Hermione seemed much too unfazed in Harry’s opinion. He wasn’t expecting a grand reaction, but definitely not this calm of one.

“Er-yeah.” Hermione looked at him and smiled.

“He treats you okay, Harry? Are you happy?”

What an understatement. Happy didn’t even begin to describe how Draco made him feel. Harry allowed himself a moment to remember Draco’s bright silver eyes that lit up when he smiled, and the full sound of his laughter. How Harry would wake up to the smell of breakfast and the beautiful melodies Draco would sing with his soft, yet full and powerful, voice, which made Harry’s mind and heart reel with affection. He thought of the tenderness of Draco’s kisses and the warm glowing feeling he would get when Draco wrapped him in his arms. How Draco could still be sarcastic and snarky, but now it was endearing and affectionate instead of venomous. He thought of how much he loved him.

“Yes,” Harry whispered. The corners of his mouth were pulling up and he must’ve had the most dreamy look on his face, because Hermione just giggled.

“Good,” she looked at Harry tenderly for moment. “He apologized to me. Did you know that?”

“He did? I didn’t know.” When did Draco run into Hermione?

“Yes, in fact. Two or so weeks ago. He came to the ministry and visited my office. I was very surprised to see him. When my secretary told me that he had come, I’m sure she expected me to shoo him away, but I was very curious as to why he would want to see me, so I told her to send him back,” Hermione paused for a sip of her tea, “and he apologized to me-for calling me a mudblood and about everything that happened at the manor and how he was back at Hogwarts. We chatted for a while after that. He’s definitely changed, Harry.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He was so touched by this, too, that Malfoy went out of his way into the wizarding world just to see and apologize to Hermione. It must’ve been hard for him, to face what he had left behind. It made Harry love him even more.

“He’s works at a candle shop, did you know?” Harry was smiling again, relieved by this conversation.

“Yes, he mentioned that. It definitely surprised me.”

“That’s how I ran into him, when I went to get your candles.”

“Really? That’s how long this has been going on? Now I really know why you’ve been avoiding Ron and I.”

“I wouldn’t say I avoided you guys, I just had someone else on my mind.”

“Yes, you always were obsessed with Draco Malfoy, huh?” Hermione laughed, and Harry joined in. _Well, that’s definitely true now._

They paused as the floo roared to life and Ron stumbled out, surprise replacing the tiredness that lingered in his eyes at the sight of Harry in his flat.

“Ron,” Hermione addressed him, tone neutral.

Ron’s eyes darted from her to Harry, and he just sighed and made his way to the chair opposite Harry.

“Sorry for storming off like that, Hermione, I didn’t mean to worry you, if I did.”

“Thanks, but it’s not me you should be talking to,” Hermione replied, tone still dangerously neutral.

Ron glanced over at Harry, looking as if he was swallowing down his pride. “I know,” Ron ran a hand through his hair, “Mate, I really am sorry for blowing up at you, but this whole thing was just really unexpected.”

“Yeah, well you barging into my flat was _really unexpected._ ”

“I was just checking up on you since you’ve been avoiding us!”

“I haven’t been avoiding you, and Draco was right you know! I mean seriously haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Harry’s relief at Hermione’s words was now getting replaced by anger at Ron’s ignorance.

“Oh so now it’s ‘Draco’? And I already said I was sorry, I just wasn’t expecting _Malfoy_ to be singing in your kitchen. I mean what the fuck was that anyway?”

“Singing?” Hermione chimed in, humour tracing her face.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, yes, okay, Draco sings in the morning. And it’s bloody brilliant, I mean did you even hear him?”

“Of course, which is why I barged in there because I know _you_ sing like a dying hippogryph. Why are we talking about Malfoy’s _singing_ anyway?”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Harry flew his hand up, nearly spilling his tea, but caught himself.

“Whatever,” Ron crossed him arms, “but seriously, Harry, why didn’t you tell us?” Ron’s anger was dying down, replaced now with confusion, and perhaps a little hurt.

“I didn’t know how you guys would react. Well I guessed it, and I was pretty close,” Harry’s eyes flicked between the two, and they glanced at each other.

“That’s fair enough,” Ron sighed. “I just got back from the ministry, actually. I went to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“My department?” Hermione questioned.

“What for?” Harry spoke up, panic rising in his chest.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Ron must’ve seen it on his face, “I just wanted to check Malfoy’s file is all, and,” Ron sat back, hands up, “he’s clean. No one’s heard a word from him since the trials.”

The panic was replaced by relief, then by a cold sort of bitterness. “Why did you want Draco’s file, Ron?”

“I just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t try to hurt you, Harry!”

“ _Hurt me?_ Did you even see him this morning? I mean _really see him_ , Ron?”

“What do you mean? I saw all that I needed,” Ron retorted.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Hermione.

“Ron, I think Harry means: did you see the condition he was in?”

Ron opened his mouth, then closed it and looked slightly taken aback. After a moment he spoke. “He was rather, er, skinny now that you mentioned it.”

Harry couldn’t contain himself, and everything came spilling out, “Ron do you even know _why_ the ministry hasn’t heard anything from him? He couldn’t have done anything even if he wanted to! And he _didn’t_ want to do anything anyway. He was a victim of the war like us, okay? I mean, we was only seventeen. He was just a kid, like us. They stripped him of everything and left him alone and homeless. He had been living on the streets for years with barely enough to eat. He was barely alive for most of it,” and Harry paused, pushing the thought of a struggling, fragile Draco from his mind. “I mean, he works as a muggle. Did you know that? He lives as muggle. And he’s _still_ recovering, both physically and mentally, from all those years living without enough of anything,” Harry covered his face and rubbed at his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his head. Then he sighed, and looked to Ron. Ron’s eyes were wide, and he appeared taken aback.

“Oh,” Ron managed to say. “I didn’t know. That’s-wow. Malfoy lived like that?” Harry nodded. “Wow. That’s pretty terrible,” Ron, Harry was pleased to see, and looked somewhat troubled by this.

“I wasn’t joking when I said he changed, either, Ron,” Harry sat up, a smile tracing his face at the memories of watching Malfoy work his job. “Did you know he’s the assistant manager at Tealights N’ Tumblers? The candle shop?” Harry mentioned airily, memories rushing back to him.  


“You’re kidding!” Ron exclaimed, and Hermione just shrugged. They exchanged a quick glance, and Ron sighed. 

Harry was too busy to notice, thinking of how smooth Draco operated during a rush of customers, catering to each efficiently and with a polite smile, and of how he would organise and stock the store when it was slow. He would sing along to the store’s music, too, just like he would in the mornings. And he and Harry would chat and joke together, and Draco sometimes told Harry customer horror stories, which he himself found pretty hilarious after the fact. Harry had been spending a little more time at the candle shop, just to be with Draco. He enjoyed watching him work and chatting with him. He enjoyed seeing Draco happy.

“Wow, Hermione, he’s really got it bad. I mean look at his face!”

Harry’s cheeks reddened. He should really stop thinking of Draco so much if it’s that obvious.

“I really do,” Harry smiled at Ron, who returned it.

“As long as you’re happy, Harry, I can’t complain. Who knows, maybe we’ll get along now,” Ron shrugged, “with the help of alcohol, mind you.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Harry let out a laugh, accepting Ron’s somewhat-apology, thankful that he came around. “I really am happy, too, now. I don’t think I’ve felt so good in a long time, actually.”

“Good,” Ron and Hermione exchanged glances again, something passing between them that Harry thought he finally understood.

“Oh and I wasn’t kidding, Harry. I think we should go for drinks sometime, us and Malfoy-or, er, Draco. I guess I’d better get to know him now since I bet we’ll be seeing a lot more of him.”

Harry laughed. “That, you will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And also, you guys have been leaving the nicest feedback :) Thank you for your comments, all of which, good or bad or even just a quick hi, are really appreciated! Your comments really make my day :)  
> Stay tuned for the next and probably final chapter, thank you again for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final installment, possibly.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

“Hey Harry!” Natty eclaimed, all smiles and giggles, as Harry entered the candle shop. Draco looked up from his sales report and caught sight of him. He was smiling and seemed relaxed. _Okay, so it went well. Good._ Draco let out a breath, releasing some anxiety that had set in since he and Harry untangled themselves from the door that morning, and Draco left for work. Harry said he would see to Ron and Hermione, which had made Draco feel uneasy all day.

Harry was chatting with Natty as Draco approached them.

“You looked a little shaken, you okay?”

“Yeah, just a rough day,” Harry sighed, and laughed a little, “but it’s all okay now,” Harry peered over at Draco, who smiled wide. Before he could stop himself, he tackled Harry in a hug. The two dissolved in each other's arms, and now Draco really felt that maybe everything was okay. Harry planted a kiss in the area between Draco’s neck and shoulder, and the two broke apart, smiling together again.

“Yeah, okay, what did I miss?” Natty broke the spell, hands on hips, smiling knowingly.

Draco wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist, thankful for the break in the days rush of customers. “Oh you know, just the usual difficult customer.”

“I can’t believe you two!” Natty giggled, “Didn’t you not like each other, what, three weeks ago?”

“Oh no, more like,” Harry counted off on his fingers, “eleven years ago.”

“And I don’t think ‘not like’ quite covers it,” Draco added in.

“Oh my God, that sounds like some history.”

“You’re telling me,” Draco and Harry said at the same time.

“Wow, do I want to know?”

“Nah,” Harry winced.

“Probably not,” Draco shook his head.

“Whatever, love works in strange ways,” Natt shrugged, smiling and walking away. “I’m going to find something to straighten or whatever, you two look like you have something to discuss.”

“Actually,” Draco looked at Harry, who nodded, “we do. We’re going to step in the back. If you need me, let me know.”

“Sure thing boss-man,” Natty called back, grinning.

Draco took Harry’s hand and led him into the back.

“Sorry about the mess, we’re in the middle of organizing a shipment,” Draco added, flipping on the lights, revealing many boxes of candles, half unpacked. “But, anyways, what happened?” Draco shut the door behind Harry, who turned to face him.

“It did go relatively well,” Harry’s voice was light as he nodded, “Hermione was completely fine with it, expected it even, and Ron flipped out at first, but he came around. Actually he seemed more than fine near the end of the conversation.”

“Okay,” Draco took a breath, “that could’ve gone worse, it sounds.”

“That’s not all. We’re going out for drinks tonight.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt his face betray his newfound anxiety. “ _Tonight?_ ”

“Tonight.”

“What, you couldn’t have left a day to cool the air?”

“Like I said, Ron was fine near the end. He’s actually the one who brought up the drinks idea, so I accepted.”

“Damn. Okay.” Draco took another breath. He felt a hand brush his waist.

“Hey, it’ll be alright, okay? I promise.” Harry’s voice was gentle and calming, Draco met those beautiful emerald eyes, and knew, again, that everything really would be okay. He felt that familiar butterfly feeling at the pit of his stomach, and leaned in towards Harry. Harry spun Draco around, pushing him back against a shelf of candles.

Harry hummed at him in response, pressing his lips into Draco’s, who felt a low moan escape from the back of his throat. He felt Harry’s hand slip further around his back, while the other ran through his hair, steadying around the back of his head. Draco wrapped on leg around Harry’s, cradling him in his own arms, deepening the kiss. Draco felt those butterflies turn into something more like dragons, which roared in delight as he kissed Harry back.

“Hey boss-man, I need-woah!” Natty interrupted, halfway through the door. Draco pulled back inelegantly, whamming his head into the shelf behind him.

“Natty! Fuck, ow!”

He heard a shriek of laughter from Natty, who, he saw through watering eyes, was bent over double in the doorway. He peered up at Harry, who looked both guilty and highly amused at the same time.

“Oh my God boss-man, get a room!” Natty got out through breaks in her laughter.

Draco rubbed at the back of his head, somewhat irritably.

“What did you need?”

Natty straightened herself, and took a deep breath, face still flushed with laughter.

“Just some more large bags. Sorry I interrupted, though, you two looked like you were having a nice time,” Natty replied, barely suppressing her giggles.

Draco disappeared behind the same shelf, dug around for a moment, then emerged with a quantity of paper bags.

He glanced at Harry, who was smiling proudly. Draco rolled his eyes. “I think we’re done here.”

The three left the back room, Draco shoving the bags into Natty’s arms.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Draco smiled at Harry, who returned it reassuringly.

“I’ll be waiting.”

~~~~~

A few hours later, Draco was rummaging through his clothes back at Harry’s flat, post-shower with a towel draped around his waist.

“What should I even wear?”

“Draco, it’s just a bar. Wear something casual.”

“Okay, what classifies as casual?”

“You’re, like, the king of casual.” Draco could feel Harry rolling his eyes from his position in the doorway.

“Here,” Harry padded up beside him, shoving his way into their closet, “wear this.” He pulled out a black and dark grey patterned flannel. Then he found the same black tank top that Draco had worn on their first coffee date. “And layer it over this.”

“Since when did you become so fashionable?” Draco mockingly raised an eyebrow at Harry, who rolled his eyes again in response.

“Since I started dating you.”

“Don’t flatter me. Your own wardrobe is still a mess.” Draco teased, and Harry chuckled.

“At least put on some jeans, you’re distracting me with that towel.” Harry gave the towel a pointed look. Draco waggled his eyebrows at Harry, who laughed as he disappeared into the bathroom for his shower.

Draco pulled on what Harry had chosen for him, rolling up the sleeves on the flannel to his elbow, so that the forearm of his tattoo was visible. He chose a lighter pair of skinny jeans, along with his pair of combat boots. He pulled his hair, now longer, back into a neat-yet-lazy knot at the back of his head, then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

A few minutes later, Harry emerged from their bedroom wearing a simple red jumper and a slightly baggy pair of jeans with trainers.

“Oh, don’t you look handsome,” Harry pecked a kiss on Draco’s cheek.

“And you look as sloppy as ever,” Draco laughed. “But, you know I love it.”

“And I love you,” Harry met Draco’s eyes.

“I love you, too,” Draco replied fondly.

Harry placed a hand on the small of Draco’s back. “Shall we?”

Draco downed the rest of his mug. “Yeah, let’s go, don’t want to keep them waiting.” Draco let Harry lead him out of their flat down to ground level (whilst Harry criticised his coffee habits), where they walked together to the bar, hand in hand, in the finally-cool evening.

Ten minutes later, Draco held open the door to the bar for Harry (though, not without bowing in a grand gesture) and the two made their way to the back where Harry said he and Ron and Hermione usually sat. And, not surprisingly, there they sat. Hermione wore slightly forced smile and Ron appeared somewhat anxious.

“Hey guys,” Harry grinned at the pair, sliding into the chair across from them, and Draco sat next to him.

“Hello Hermione. Ron,” _This is already awkward as hell,_ Draco thought.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ron was quicker.

“Malfoy, or, er, Draco,” Ron cleared his throat, “I want to apologize for this morning. I overreacted, and, well . . . I was an outright git to you. I’m sorry.” Ron’s cheeks flushed.

Draco was stunned for a moment, not at all expecting this from Weasley. He definitely matured a but since school. Well, apart from that morning.

“Oh,” he said after a beat, “it’s fine. I mean you had a right to be surprised, I would be surprised, too,”

“I sense a ramble coming on” Harry cut in.

“Right, thanks love. Well, honestly, I should be the one apologizing. I’m really sorry for everything I said about you and your family back at school. I _really_ am. I kind of understand what that’s like now. But I’m not excusing what I did and said because that was really wrong of me. And I’m sorry for that ridiculous song in fifth year. And for-”

“Woah, Draco,” Ron cut him off, “slow down!” Draco glanced at him, and he seemed rather taken aback as if he weren’t expecting any sort of apology or friendliness. Draco didn’t blame him, either. “Wow he really did change,” he heard Ron mumble under his breath.

“It’s all water under the bridge now, so let’s forget about.” Ron settled that, and Draco smiled.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, anyone fancy a drink?” Hermione piped in.

“Please,” Ron and Draco replied at the same time (in the same pleading tone), and raised their eyebrows at each other in unison.

“I’ll be right back, first round’s on me, boys,” Hermione smiled at the lot, then disappeared in the hustle of the bar.

The three sat in awkward silence for a beat, and Draco was itching to break the slight tension.

“Can I just be the first to say that this whole first names thing is incredibly awkward?” He offered.

“I second that, Malfoy,” Ron said, smiling for real this time.

“Good to see we’re on the same page, Weasley.”

“Just not in front of Hermione, she’ll lock you two in a closet to _bond_ or something,” Harry added.

“I can do what whatever I want, _Potter,_ ” Ron replied, nailing the old way Draco said Harry’s surname, which made Draco bark with laughter. Ron looked rather impressed with himself, and any remaining tension dissolved.

Draco paused to pour himself some tap water, and Ron took the moment to inspect Draco’s tattoo.

“Nice ink, Malfoy,” he said.

“Oh,” Draco held out his forearm as his did that first time with Harry, “thank you. It took an absolute age to complete.”

At that moment, Hermione appeared with three pints of ale. She seated herself across from Harry, and eyed the tattoo.

“It is quite elaborate,” she mentioned. “I love the roses.”

“Hey,” Ron pointed at the yellow and white flowers near the crown of the Dark Mark. “Aren’t those-?”

“Narcissus flowers,” Draco finished, eyes slightly unfocused. “They were the first I had tattooed. I got them to remind me of my mother’s strength and bravery, and especially her love. I want to remember those things about her. The rest I got to, well, fight the Mark, in a way.” Draco’s eyes snapped back into focus, and he looked up into the eyes of those surrounding him. “You know, beauty in ugliness. The light after the dark. Reclaiming myself.” He offered a half-smile.

“Wow, Malfoy,” Ron looked awestruck, which Draco found to be quite amusing. Who knew he could make Weasley awestruck?

“That’s beautiful,” Hermione said breathily, staring at Draco.

Draco felt suddenly self-conscious, pulling his forearm back against the table, bringing his flowers and his scars with it. He took his pint and shrugged, taking a gulp. “I just wanted a way to remember her, ias all,” his voice nearly faltered as he felt Harry slip a hand over his thigh.

“I didn’t know you actually had an emotional range,” Ron said blatantly, to which Draco quirked an eyebrow.

“Yours is still equivalent to that of a teaspoon, love,” Hermione told him, rolling her eyes, and Ron laughed, wrapping an around around her. Draco sensed an inside joke.

“Okay then,” Draco gave Harry a sidelong glance, and Harry laughed, removing his hand, and instead looping the arm around his waist.

“Anyways, Weasley, what are you up to nowadays?” Draco reverted back to pleasantries.

“I run the joke shop now, with George.”

“That sounds fun,” Draco replied earnestly, which must’ve surprised Ron slightly, as he continued on.

“Actually, it really is. I love seeing what he invents up, some of which I help him with, but he does the majority of it. I enjoy being out on the floor talking to people, for the most part.”

“Really?” Draco’s eyes lit up in that familiar way, which made Harry smile. “Me too! Well, I’m sure you know that I help manage a candle shop?”

Ron nodded, now engaged fully in the conversation.

“I absolutely love being on the floor and helping people out. At first it was kind of crazy, the extent that people will go to for a certain candle scent or whatever was slightly baffling, but I learned to appreciate it, you know? Life’s little pleasures like candles and pranks. Finding the right thing. I enjoy helping people find the right thing, no matter how small. It can really make their day, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Ron nodded in appreciation. Harry couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Hermione must’ve felt the same way because she gave him a look from the other side of the table. Harry raised his eyebrows back.

“Oooh!” Draco exclaimed, after another gulp of ale. “Do you have any good customer horror stories?”

Ron groaned, “Oh Merlin, I could write a book.”

Draco barked with laughter. “Yeah I love helping customers, but _damn_ , you know the ones I’m talking about. They just ask for the craziest things or are just unbelievably rude or difficult?”

“Like they woke up that morning determined to fuck up your day?” Ron agreed, taking a sip from his stein.

“More like came out of the womb destined for it,” Draco replied, and Ron laughed.

“Definitely,” Ron replied, “one day, this witch, or should I say, this bit-”

“ _Ron!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

“Sorry, love. But anyways, this lady comes in . .” Ron continued. Harry watched, barely listening, as his best mate and his boyfriend, two former enemies, exchanged stories with a newfound enthusiasm as if they’d been friends their whole lives. 

“Tell me about it! This one lady, I’ll never forget her, comes in and buys literally 40 large candles. Then, the next day she waltzes in wanting to return them . . .”

“That’s insane. Just last week this Hogwarts-aged bloke wants to custom order an extra- _extra_ -strength love potion. Then when we try to explain to him that it’s highly illegal . . .”

“Wow. You’re joking! That reminds me of this one customer . . .:

Every once in awhile, Harry or Hermione would give each other looks, or cut into ask about the current story, both still in somewhat disbelief at sudden the comradery. Harry, however, didn’t know he could feel this happy again after the events of that morning, which seemed far away. He almost couldn’t believe he was sharing a drink with his two best friends in the world, along with his boyfriend, who made him the happiest man on the planet, and that they all more than got along after a very bumpy start. Harry felt beyond calm and content next to Draco, whose eyes were shining silver and brighter than ever.

Much later that night, after some crazy stories from Ron and Draco, and even a few from Hermione, all four parties left the bar a little past tipsy. Once out the door, Draco turned around, and planted a full kiss on Harry’s lips, which Harry returned happily, and they only broke apart laughing after Ron catcalled them. The two couples bid each other a good night, before parting ways, Ron’s arm wrapped around Hermione, and Draco’s around Harry.

Draco was singing quietly under his breath as they stolled back home cuddled together in the thankfully-chilly summer night.

_”When I feel blue in the night, and I need you to hold me tight. Whenever I want you, all I have to do drea-ea-ea-ea-eam.”_

“God, you’re voice is so beautiful,” Harry whispered. Draco pulled him closer as they walked.

_”I need you so that I could die. I love you so and that is why whenever I want you, all I have to do is dre-ea-ea-ea-eam! Dream, dream, dream, oh dre-ea-ea-ea-eam.”_

Harry leaned further into Draco and closed his eyes, trusting Draco’s footing as they walked, listening to Draco’s voice, feeling complete peace.

 _”Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream. Oh, dream,”_ Draco finished, humming.

“I’m so happy, Harry, that this isn’t a dream,” He whispered into Harry’s hair.

“Me too, because I really do love you,” Harry opened his eyes, catching Draco’s, which were like stars in the moonlight.

Draco smiled back softly. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all so much for reading. I really didn't expect to write this much when I started it out. But, well, I did!
> 
> (The song Draco sang, by the way, is All I Have To Do Is Dream, originally by the Everly Brothers, but I was again thinking of the Mc6 A Capella version! Both versions are great though :D)
> 
> Now, the story is technically over. I may make a part two at some point in the future, turning this into a series, because I do have some ideas, but I"m not sure if they'll pan out. I'll have to think on it and develop them more.
> 
> In the meantime, I have more ideas for different fics, so if you enjoyed this one, stick around for more of my Drarry stories! I plan to actually write and plan those as full-multiple chapter stories, as this one more unfolded as I thought it out.
> 
> Either way, thank you so much for reading. Every hit, kudos, and comment I read and appreciated. You guys seriously make my day :) Hopefully I'll be writing for you all again very shortly, if my schedule will allow for it (yay, classes!) :)


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